Something Unpredictable
by AnnaLouise86
Summary: Jack/Ianto. Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world. Warning: Mpreg. WORK IN PROGRESS.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Prologue/?)

**Rating/Warnings**: G (for now), Mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**A/N:** One thing I love about Torchwood is that mpreg can actually work. I don't know where this crack came from. I read a couple of mpregs over the last few days, and I had it on my mind to write something. I'm going to try and make it slightly different. Let's just see where this goes.

* * *

Prologue

Jack smelt pizza crust above all else. The smell was absolutely dominating his senses, combined with the thick and gooey combination of cheese, pepperoni, and beef. It was also known as Meat Feast, an order that – once just a rather punny joke – was now a Hub staple.

Any other time and he would be wolfing it down. But now, he could barely look at the stuff let alone put it in his mouth. At least, not without crashing toward the toilets in a not-so-graceful manner.

Gwen had already come down with the flu once this season, and although Jack knew he had more than enough immunity to bypass easily contagious viruses, it was a believable story and he was sticking to it. But then, Jack was no imbecile; there was no need to piss on a stick or get probed by Owen to know what his body was set out to do – what it had done centuries in the future, a time when expectant fathers didn't make the headline news.

But even then (in his younger days, that is, before the Doctor, before Torchwood), he had been an experiment, a systematic trial-and-error guinea pig through an agency called LifeSmart Corporations, "Paving Mankind for a Better Future."

Jack was a willing participant since day one. He read the provisions and fine print until he had it memorized like the back of his hand, but less for himself and more for the man he was most attached to at the time, a man not so different from Ianto, actually. He could still remember his name, Kavin, a boy about twenty-six. Kavin was different than other men Jack had wooed. He actually cared about him; one of the few, in retrospect. More than a shag partner, he was a friend, too, and the one who made Jack - the man he once was, the one with a different name - sit down, read, and re-read every pamphlet until his eyes blurred.

Sweet Kavin. Jack knew, even then, he'd make a bloody good father. Jack had also already known the surgical process: a quick, non-intrusive, laser transplant to the lower abdomen fused together by energy and laced with blind hormones, which would activate if the male, in question, was with child.

At the time, Jack was told that his pregnancy would follow the patterns of a normal female, with roughly the exact same gestation and in the same ballpark of thirty-eight to forty weeks. For the first few weeks, he was wired to the gills on a semi-regular basis. Though he could leave the agency and live a normal life, a temporary badge was adorned to (where else?) his gut, monitoring any irregular movement and energy.

The first trimester had been a rollercoaster of emotions and physical sensations. For one, Jack was a complete horn dog, even more so than before. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it became a nuisance at times when all he wanted to do was, say, get the mail. So long as he was still fit to shag… well, shag he did. Day one at the agency, he'd asked if that was all right, if it would hurt the baby, or if the monitoring devices were because they were all "voyeuristic, body tracking kinksters." He was quickly pacified. Sort of. He probably would have liked it either way.

Secondly, and even worse, was the nausea. Never in Jack's life had he ever had issues with gagging up at any notice, but all of that shot to the wind in a matter of weeks. His first nemesis, even at the time, was pizza, which he quickly learned to push out of his diet at whatever cost. What followed were the various 51st century-type foods, some as bizarre as simple pills you popped to add natural flavors to bland food, others as classic as bangers and mash. Nothing slipped past his nose. It was a humiliating sight to see, and he hated close to every minute of it.

By the time his second trimester crept in, fourteen whole weeks, he could only sigh with relief. Even Kavin was quietly chuffed. The agency continued to study his vitals, though they urged him more to stay on his feet and keep active, which was no problem for Jack, a man of unlimited energy. In fact, Jack grew quite fond of this stage. His nausea had worn off considerably, his taste buds were off the charts, and on top of that, his body was finally beginning to show the physical ramifications of pregnancy. Luckily for him, he carried the extra weight well, and evidence of a pregnancy was barely noticeable until his fifth month. Even then, it looked as though he'd only gone overboard on the pudding. For all intents and purposes, he did.

However, on the second Sunday in April, year 5008, in his sixth month of gestation, Junior kicked Jack so hard that he nearly fell over. Twenty minutes later, when Jack moved into the restroom, tracks of blood lined his trousers and leg, and he knew it was over.

To add insult to injury, Kavin disappeared from Jack's life all of three weeks later, lost in the void. Jack scavenged for an entire six months to find the man he'd grown close to, but to no avail.

Nature had taken its course. It was as if… it never happened. Jack had wished so many times that the Time Agency could have stripped those memories from him, taken away the guilt.

And so Jack sat in his chair at the Hub, his fingers crossed at his chin as he attempted to read Ianto's new inventory list for the Hub, a weekly checklist that had become commonplace as food and Windex magically vanished by the day. Jack's mind was a million miles away – centuries into the future, yet so deeply rooted in the present.

He asked himself silently, how could this happen? Earth was not even flourishing with the enzymes needed to cause a reaction or adhere to the biological technology of the future. Besides, he'd had plenty of partners in the last century – some protected, most not – and nothing, _nothing_ ever happened. Not until he met Ianto, a 21st century mortal completely in the dark.

He wringed his hands and put his full concentration into the list, jotting down extra requests, adding numbers, brands, costs, and a lump sum balance for Ianto to spend. He left his usual innuendo and general silliness ("more lube," "Owen's nappies") off the page for the first time in as long as he could remember.

Tonight, he would relieve himself (again). He would possibly rest. Tomorrow, he would pull Owen aside and ask for a scan.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Chapter 1/?)

**Rating/Warnings**: G (for now), Mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**A/N:** Thank you for all the support and interest in my ongoing series! Here comes the first chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 1

Inner plans averted. Any prospects Jack had to meet with Owen were replaced by the rift letting off its siren and putting four-fifths of the team on its toes. Jack, on the other hand, was noticeably relieved. He seemed to bounce off the balls of his feet just for the opportunity to get out of the Hub and kick some alien tail. While he knew very well what he _should_ do, it was still a matter of _actually doing it._

So it was nothing short of a downer for him when the team drove thirty miles outside of Cardiff to discover that it was merely a traveling circus of lost extraterrestrials. According to the story, they had apparently taken a wrong turn on their way to the planet Cybonex, a perfectly moderate place and not all that different from Earth, if you ignored the minor fact that it was three times the size.

Jack had identified them as the Vreemds right off the bat, an advanced species that could automatically decode and translate any spoken language, including primitive 21st century English, thankfully. Long story short, they were harmless. Jack had even offered them back for coffee, but they refused politely and disappeared back into the galaxies once they'd gotten what they wanted.

Truth be told, Jack had secretly hoped that he could have thrown himself at another Abaddon and saved the world a couple of times, just to take his mind off the inevitable.

The team returned back to the Hub twenty minutes later. Ianto, Gwen, and Tosh put down their work to grab lunch, and Owen stayed behind to dissect a case study from the night before. It was a cold day in Hell when neither of the men could keep their food and drinks down, though for entirely different reasons. Jack paced his office for a couple of minutes before he took the liberty of stepping into the archives.

It was boring, but it was something to do. Besides, it would save Ianto from one extra thing in his day. Frankly, he barely wanted the younger man around now. It only presented the opportunity for Jack to rip off his clothes at any given moment of the day. While that hardly seemed so bad, Ianto stood in the way of a lot of work, and he was conceivably the man that got him into this mess in the first place.

But this, this archiving was more tedious than he had remembered. Jack wasn't nearly as efficient as Ianto, and more likely than not, the younger man would have to backtrack most of Jack's work. Jack still attempted to document each measly detail after another, even down to one of the male Vreemds asking, rather inappropriately, where they kept their "additional opposable phallic manipulator underneath their thin layer of skin." Jack assumed that one was simply going through puberty as he was given a proper zap from one of the elder alien's metallic canes.

The minutes passed by in empty silence, and Jack typed out as much as he could remember before his fingers became limp and unresponsive. His mind soon moved into another world, and he found one of his hands drifting on to his lip.

* * *

_"Your condition has turned you sentimental," Kavin smiled easily, his fingers grazing over Jack's bare arms. Goosebumps appeared instantly. Jack smiled as he let out a sigh. He was four months along, but there were barely remnants of anything there, especially lying flat on his back._

_"All I'm saying is this. I want you to live with me, all the way."_

_Kavin's eyebrows arched as he turned against his lover and spread his arm across his bare chest. "Like a proper family?"_

_Jack thought about that one for a few moments before feeling a microscopic smile crack at his lips. "Sure, if that's what you want to call it."_

_Kavin smiled more before resting his weight against his elbow and dragging his fingers along Jack's chest, his eyes fixed on his. Jack finally resigned and let out a loud, emphatic sigh._

_"All right! All right, yes, a family. But don't think we're house husbands! And I don't do dinner. Or cleaning, or bed making. And I definitely _don't_ do gardening." Jack grinned despite his words, and Kavin smiled back, getting pulled into a kiss. He added half-heartedly, "And I won't be cleaning your clothes in my delicate state either."_

* * *

The Captain's eyes flickered slightly before he snapped back into reality. He noticed then that his throat was parched, though he blamed the musty archives – really, it was a miracle Ianto hadn't come down with something after all these years. Perhaps he'd grown immune to it. He made a mental note to ask Owen to do a full exam of each of the team members some day.

Before he retreated, he revealed a piece of paper from a side drawer and jotted down notes for Ianto of what he had done and what the younger man had left to do. Once he returned to the Main Hub, he washed his hands and poured himself a glass of water, reveling in the calm silence. The rest of his team still hadn't returned back yet, he knew what he had to do.

He crossed his arms as he walked around the gallery of Owen's medical room, though he stalked quietly, not wanting to startle the doctor. As he made it around, he began with small talk, analyzing the case study and only mildly wanting to regurgitate. For now.

"How's it going?" Jack asked, trailing his eyes toward the ceiling. Just the sheer smell was arguing with him. Couldn't he spray some damn air freshener? Owen glanced up at him, various medical instruments in his hand.

"Peachy keen, to the looks of it, except we've got a right mess."

Jack looked back at the cadaver and back to Owen. "That's your analysis? Thanks, I hadn't noticed. It's disgusting."

Owen raised his eyebrows quickly, looking back at his Captain expectantly, before his voice turned low and gravelly. "You act like you've never seen a dead guy before."

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but he firmly closed it. They spoke the same language: immortal. "Touché."

Both men smiled in their own little way before Jack shifted his weight and began to slowly pace around the medical table. Owen tended to the body like a man working on a car, freely talking above the mess. "So did you need anything? I'm a little tied up now to make coffee, and there's a Starbucks around the corner, lest you forget."

"No, it isn't that." Jack nearly hesitated, but it was now or never. "I need you in my office, if at all possible, in five minutes."

Owen looked up then, his eyes narrowing, but he agreed to it slowly. "I'm all done here; I just have to clean up. I'll see you in a minute."

Jack bowed his head in response before turning back on his leg and walking toward his office. He nearly stopped for coffee, but he hesitated the moment his stomach gave a little gurgle. The water barely agreed with him now, let alone java, nor was the caffeine good for his condition. He kept walking and eventually planted himself into his chair, sitting back as he mentally phrased all that he was about to say.

Owen Harper was a man of his word. Five minutes later, he appeared at his doorway, stripped of his medical coat. Jack stood up to his feet and closed the door behind him before offering him the seat across from him.

"You know, even if you wanted to resort to buggery, Harkness, I'm already dead."

Jack snorted quietly and sat back down into his chair, wheeling himself in. He could resort to more small talk, but the rest could return at any minute, so he cut right to the case. "Owen, what I'm about to tell you stays in this room. You can't tell Gwen or Tosh or even Ianto. I need you to listen, first and foremost."

Owen matured five years in the span of five seconds as he nodded his head and sat up straighter in the chair. "Okay, shoot."

Jack pressed his lips together for a moment before starting right from the beginning. Granted, the cliff notes version. "In the 51st century, this medical agency called LifeSmart had finally 'perfected' the so-called male pregnancy solution."

Owen's fingers gripped around the handles of the chair slightly more, but he didn't say anything, only nodding.

"It was less of a medical breakthrough than you think, but it wasn't a perfect science. I volunteered right out the gate. The operation was a non-intrusive lasic transplant that lasted minutes, literally, and don't even question it. One of my partners at the time was as willing to go with it as I was, so he took the right vitamins and the specific enzymatic supplements to help along with the process. I was monitored on a regular basis to see my progress, which went smoothly in the beginning."

He was interrupted right there. Owen had a lot to process, and he wore that classic look of confusion on his brow and jaw, his body tilted to the side. "Wait, so you were actually for-the-history-books up the duff?"

Not quite the way Jack would have phrased it, but he nodded his head. When he opened his mouth to say more, Owen still gave him the same look of confusion, mixed with fascination and bewilderment; as if he wanted to cut him open with his scalpel at any moment.

"Owen…"

Owen snapped out of it just then, waving his hand. "Anyway, sorry, go on…"

"Yeah," Jack said slower than he intended to. He knew no better way to go on with the information without becoming redundant, so he just let the cat out of the bag. "I miscarried in my twenty-eighth week. The obstetricians basically told me that my body was rejecting the fetus because of an under dose of prenatal vitamins. Ingenious 51st century technology and they… they underestimated."

"I'm sorry," Owen said quietly and sincerely. Jack nodded his head, a touch passive, having lost so many. He knew, even if he'd given birth, the child wouldn't even be alive today, not even after all the time traveling in the world. This fact alone was sobering, to say the least.

The room grew quiet for a good minute or two, both men unaware of what to tell each other. Jack half expected Owen to put the pieces together for him, while Owen hoped Jack would chalk it all down to life wisdom and leave it at that. Jack was enough of a proud, tyrant bitch without the addition of sore ankles and a growing fetus.

When it became clear neither of them knew what to say to each other, Jack finally stood up and walked around his desk to speak closer to the doctor sitting down in front of him.

"I need you to run a few tests, the sooner the better. Look, I don't know how it happened; I don't see how it could have, at least not here. Not in this century, not on this earth. Hell, the air quality isn't even the same; the supplements haven't even been invented for another five thousand years. Nothing adds up."

For once, Owen decided to take the rational route. He spoke clearly and deliberately as he looked up at Jack. "Do you think you're jumping the gun too soon, Jack? Couldn't it be a million other things? Isn't pregnancy a little… out there?"

Jack turned his eyes away from Owen and shook his head. He half-expected that response from a 21st century man with 21st century medicine and pre-21st century medical books. But Jack wasn't ready to explain the entire medical development in the span of three thousand years.

So Jack left it perfectly simple. "No. No, this is… I know this feeling."

Owen continued to choose his words carefully. He could barely believe he was having this conversation. "So assuming you are, or could be, would Ianto be the…?"

Jack simply nodded. Unless he was bitten in the arm by another Nostrovite, highly unlikely for any number of reasons (including the fact that he wasn't bit from anything, aside from a Myfanwy nip, to which case he had bigger problems under his hand if the pterodactyl was a child implanting alien), it had to be Ianto's. He wasn't nearly as freewheeling as people assumed.

The silenced washed over them again, only broken by one of Jack's long, drawn out sighs. "I'll send the others home early, ballpark figure around seven o'clock, unless the earth explodes. Would you mind staying to…?"

Owen shook his head quickly. Honestly, he never thought he'd ever have to give his boss, whether equipped with a cock or a twat, a bloody scan, but he was man enough to do it. "No, not at all, you've got it, Captain."

Jack smiled softly and nodded his head, patting the clearly tense man on the shoulder. "And thank you." Owen nodded. "Go on, cut up some more cadavers like a good doctor."

The younger man cracked a smile and retreated from Jack's office, his head still swimming around the facts, though male pregnancy hardly seemed as strange in light of the fact that he, himself, was the walking dead. At the thought of that, Owen sobered up and kept walking toward his medical room.

There was a Torchwood baby on the way, and God help the universe, Ianto Jones could be someone's father.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Chapter 2/?)

**Rating/Warnings:** PG, mpreg

**Pairing: **Jack/Ianto

**Description: **Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**Words: **2,780

**A/N: **I've got nothing. I hope I got the medical stuff spot on. Thank you again for your interest. I hope you like this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Two

The clock ticked past 7:10 and Jack watched as each of the team members gathered up their inventory and left the Hub. Ianto had eyed him wearily, but silently left to his flat without saying much. Jack was acting bizarre enough, as it was. If Ianto needed to play twenty questions, he would save it for another day.

Owen, meanwhile, danced around the notion with the others that he was packing up to leave, but the moment he saw Jack spying on Ianto driving from the garage, he slipped his white coat back on and turned to his boss. Aside from the soft purr of Myfanwy's slumber, the hub was completely silent.

Like earlier in the day, Jack returned to the gallery and leaned against the edge of the bars. Owen had his back turned, but he turned around and fixed the gloves to his hand. A tray behind him sat a plastic cup and a needle.

"There's several ways we can do this, Jack. You can piss in a cup and get a 'yes' or 'no' answer before tonight. Or we can jab a needle up your forearm and run a qualitative test, which will do the same, but hurt a hell of a lot more. If I've got your blood, I can even go so far to tell you how far along you are. That is if you're…"

Jack interrupted him, his arms stretched out against the railing. "How long does the last part take to process here?"

"Here?" The doctor's brow furrowed. Jack was a bit tense, if not testy.

"Here, Owen, Earth. Now. Last time, they did a microscopic ultrasound and had my results in naught-point-three seconds. How long will it take _here?_"

"Oh," Owen swallowed, "Two days, approximately. Look, if you want my opinion, Jack, no to the first, yes to the second. I'll have to poke a few holes in you anyway, if your suspicions are correct."

Jack rolled his eyes but nodded his head. It was funny that a man that had been shot over 1,500 times was dizzy over the thought of a little needle prick… in his arm. "Okay, go on then, doctor."

Owen began setting up the needle from over Jack's shoulder, still tucked in its encasing. A couple minutes later, Owen stared between the needle and Jack. Finally, the younger man spoke up. "So are you going to work with me here? I can't jab it through cloth."

"Oh, right," Jack bumbled as he shrugged his braces, pulled out his navy blue shirt from his trousers, and unbuttoned it quickly. He rolled his shoulders back and let out a manly huff before pressing his lips together. The room still smelled of death, and it was more than just Owen. Combined with the needle about to enter his skin and the ongoing assault on his senses of antiseptic and formaldehyde, Jack was several minutes away from turning blanch white.

Owen cleaned down Jack's arm and stretched it out before tying the tourniquet to raise the vein. "Don't puke on me, Harkness, or I swear I'll send you to Sainsburys where you can buy seven bloody EPT tests without my help."

Jack nodded his head and attempted to relax. Although Owen was a prat at times, he was only helping him. "Just jab it in there when you're ready."

"I bet I'm not the first person you've said that to before."

At that point, Jack was ready to tar and feather Owen, but he held in his inner griping and attempted to remain calm, cool, and relaxed. Owen took that cue to fulfill the duty he had set out to do, and Jack went to a happy place in his mind; namely, a blue police box with a strange but brilliant, pinstriped man on the inside. A man who could make you tea and save the universe all under the ten minutes. A man who, at the very least, could explain even this. If only Jack had his guidance all the time. It was selfish to hope for it. He'd gotten his answers, the ones he waited one hundred years for, and he'd promised his team he wouldn't abandon them like that ever again. Especially not now; no, he couldn't.

"Is it over?" Jack asked suddenly. Owen had inserted the needle and taken at least two vials of blood. When Jack opened his eyes, Owen stood a few feet away at one of his side trays, preparing Jack's first samples.

"The worst part is. Do you feel any woozier?"

"Can't be any worse than I already am," Jack mumbled to himself, though audibly. Owen watched as Jack poked his finger over the red dot in his forearm.

"When was your last missed period, Jack?" Owen asked seriously, no form of mockery in his voice. All the same, Jack glared and moved to pull his shirt back on. Owen took that as a hint and turned back to test the vials of blood, continuing to speak over his work. "In the future, was it… rare for men to go full-term?"

Jack fixed the last button slowly as he shook his head solemnly. "No, at least not by the time I signed up for it. Plenty of men had already done it. In fact, there were support groups and everything. But it was still a relatively new science, so the agency kept close watch, especially on dosages, medications. Things like that."

"But I thought you said…"

"I did." Jack was firm, though his hands scattered down his chest, barely tracing over his stomach before he lifted his braces back up. "Accidents happen. Happened then, could happen now."

"What sort of medications were these?" If anything, Jack should have been asking Owen these questions, but he understood. Owen had a medical degree from a 21st century hospital. He only knew medicine from his own era, and he couldn't fault him for it. This thought had already crossed Jack's mind.

"Start me off on regular prenatal vitamins if you have to. My body will do the rest."

Owen gave him the old suspicious fish eye.

"Look, I had enough energy to kill off Abaddon, wander around the hub three days later, and then survive the end of the world all over again. If I had the ability my first time around at this, I would have. Okay, Owen? Owen…"

The test results stared back up at the young medic, and Owen opened his mouth to say something relevant but locked his jaw. His eyes were shot, and damn, he knew stranger things had happened, even in Torchwood, but if the medical society could get their hands on Jack Harkness, a seemingly American, full blooded male. Plain as day pregnant, right before his eyes. Damn it, Owen believed it; the symptoms, the assuredness, the blood and the numbers in front of him.

Jack looked back at Owen carefully and walked a few steps closer. "What do the results say?"

Owen opened his mouth to speak again, but he was positively speechless. Jack didn't need Owen's response to know, the younger man wore it on his face. When Owen could finally articulate all of thirty seconds later, he looked back at Jack. "Says you've got a few long months ahead of you."

* * *

_Kavin beat back another tumbler, his expression contorted with the rising levels of intoxication. He had already burned a crevice wider than the San Andreas Fault within the center of his throat. Additionally, he hadn't seen Jack in a week days, not since… well. To that, he took another swig._

_He slapped another credit down on to the bar, to which the barkeep raised his eyebrows and walked a few steps back toward him. "I think you ought to run along where you came from, boy."_

_"I'm not a boy," he growled, slapping another credit on top of the other. The barkeep took the hint, took his tumbler, and filled it back up. Once it had returned into Kavin's grasp, he sipped it slowly at first, lost in his thoughts. Emptiness was a cloud in his eye; whatever form of optimism he felt even a week ago was extinguished._

* * *

"You said it was impossible," Owen said quietly.

"It is. It wasn't a complete science. My partner had to take vitamins."

"Oh. Vitamins?" Owen's hand rested against one of his side trays, though he'd learned the hard way not to rest his entire weight against them. Owen was sure he didn't particularly want to know, but Jack yammered on.

"The usual suspects," Jack offered with a sigh, but Owen looked at him cluelessly. "You know, arginine, coenzyme…"

"Bugger, you think Ianto takes Viagra? No wonder the bastard knocked you up. I bet he's pounding the puppy as we speak."

Jack just glared. Again.

* * *

_Kavin knew he couldn't stay in New New York any longer, but he had no means of leaving, either. At least not yet. He pulled out the fob watch he kept in his inside pocket, something Jack – the man he called Darion – had yet to discover. Kavin didn't open it; however, he traced his fingers over the soft inscription of a circular hourglass, constantly turning and winding within itself._

"_Quite an attractive fob watch you've got there," the barkeep spoke up, leaning in closer to the younger man. Kavin smiled slightly and tucked the watch further into his palm. "Family heirloom?"  
_

_Kavin hesitated at first, but the barkeep was harmless enough. "Something like that." He took in a deep breath through his nostrils and poked his finger through the metallic loop. "But it's broken."_

* * *

"Are you going to keep it?" Jack looked up at Owen again, and before the older man could cut off his head, Owen patted him on the arm. "It's a valid question."

"I know," Jack said quietly. This is one of those times he could use a scotch, but the deal was sealed. He couldn't. "I have to talk to Ianto first." Jack blinked quietly, his hands moving on to his hips. It was still early, yet, and Jack could see the young man sitting at his flat, passing away the time with a beer and the telly. Very seldom did Jack let them out early. Ianto even could have been sleeping.

Owen kept staring back at the Captain, waiting for him to jump on his heels, grab his greatcoat, and head out the door, but Jack stood in his spot, glancing back at the results and back to a spot on the floor.

"Jack?"

"Thanks, Owen. You can leave now. Thanks a lot. I have something I need to do." Jack cracked an uneasy smile before bounding up the gallery and grabbing his coat.

* * *

"_Plenty of watch shops in the city; you could probably quite a lot for it, even. Are you from here?"_

"_Yes, but I'm looking to move. And you're right, I suppose I could," Kavin said passively. "But I'd never part from it, even if my life depended on it. It's priceless to me."_

_The barkeep nodded and smiled softly. Here was an attractive young man with the rest of his life to live, and he novelized a silly pocket watch. But he still continued to humor Kavin. "Happen to know what that symbol means?"_

_Kavin glanced back up to the older man just before his expression softened again. He grazed his fingernails over the winding pattern, as if he were home. "Infinity." Kavin glanced up at the man just then, giving him one final, intense look before he tipped back the rest of his shot and set it back down. "Cheers."_

* * *

Jack stood at Ianto's doorstep, ready to lunge right back into his SUV as he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. There was a cool draft in the air, and the younger man was taking his time to come to his door. Jack nearly pulled out his mobile to give him a ring, but the door finally opened thirty seconds later.

He was greeted by a fumbling, shirtless Ianto only dignified by the sight of a small towel. Jack could take him right there, in the doorway, but he shoved himself into the flat for Ianto's sake.

"You must have known I was coming," Jack grinned mischievously, brushing his hand over the front of his trousers and snapping his braces. Ianto rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.

"What's the occasion?"

Jack shrugged, crossing his arms behind his back as he stood a few feet from Ianto. "I was in the neighborhood." Ianto nodded and Jack swaggered closer. "And does there need to be one?"

The younger man took notice of Jack's mood, smiled, and loosened his hold on his towel. It slipped farther down his hips, just as Jack grazed his hand over his chest and around his waist. Seconds later, Ianto was pulled into a kiss, just as Jack slipped Ianto's hand over his groin.

"No, never," Ianto grunted, kissing him back as his fingers expanded and took hold. Jack sighed and jutted his hips toward Ianto as he shrugged away the braces. "Nice to see you."

"You, too. Y'miss me?" Jack grinned and expanded the length of his neck as Ianto's mouth brushed over his jugular. With nimble fingers, Jack freed Ianto of his pesky towel, and he gave his lover a few swift strokes.

"Yep," Ianto responded easily.

Jack had heard that before. He came here for a purpose, but the spare diversion never hurt, especially when it involved Ianto and nudity. Ianto didn't seem to mind, either, as his feet dragged over to the sofa and he pushed Jack on to it. The telly was still blaring in the background, but neither seemed to notice as they divulged in each other.

Ianto fell asleep a half hour later, the entire week seemingly catching up to him as he lied in Jack's arms. If only he knew, Jack told himself, staring down at him from the corner of his eye. Jack's fingers strewn through his hair, and Ianto stirred slightly. He wasn't quite asleep, but he could easily slip into slumber for the rest of the night.

A few minutes passed before Jack slipped away as quietly as he could to the loo. He stomach growled as he hadn't eaten all day, but he ignored it as he splashed his face with water and looked back at his reflection. The same question ate away in his brain, how this could have happened. It was impossible, yet there it was, a part of him. A part of both of them.

Jack poured himself a glass of water and looked through Ianto's cabinets until he found a box of saltine crackers. He was hungrier than he expected, and although he knew he'd regret it later, he brought the box in with him as he sat on the couch, pulled Ianto's head into his lap, and stared back at the telly.

Crumb after crumb landed on Jack's leg, the couch, and even Ianto's cheek, but the man below him didn't stir. The temptation was too great for Jack not to reach down and kiss away the flecks. By the time he was done, Ianto's eyes were open and his smile slight.

"What are you doing?" Ianto asked question, sliding his arm around Jack's neck. He smelled crackers. Jack had been raiding his kitchen again.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm eating. And you're sleeping." Jack smiled innocently. "At least you were."

"You woke me up," Ianto sighed before sliding his arm away and sitting up against Jack's shoulder. Jack slipped a cracker through Ianto's lips and tapped the bridge of his nose. Ianto couldn't even swallow as Jack pulled him into a kiss, licking the salt right off his lips. "Thank you."

Jack grinned and squeezed his shoulder. He had to tell him, as soon as possible, and he looked back at the younger man with a soft look in his eye, his entire gut doing flip flops inside of him. It had been different with Kavin. Kavin had expected it – they'd signed the contract together and prepared themselves.

But here was Ianto, all of twenty-five years old and completely unprepared for parenthood, let alone another man carrying his child.

Ianto's cheek rested on to Jack's shoulder, his arm around his waist, as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Jack." Jack's breathing stifled, and he looked down at him. For a moment, their eyes met, just before Ianto's eyes closed again. "Stay here tonight."

Jack nodded his head and kissed the younger man's temple. "Sleep. _Sleep_."


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Chapter 3/?)  
**Rating/Warnings:** PG-13, mpreg  
**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto  
**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.  
**Words:** 2,845  
**A/N:** Thanks for waiting, guys! This chapter is _very_ Kavin-related, but I have this guy in my head that won't leave. Enjoy, and as always, feedback is appreciated.

* * *

Chapter 3

Ianto awoke to the sound of Jack rustling in the kitchen, as usual. He hadn't expected him to stay through the night, let alone the morning, but it was a welcome surprise considering his usual morning routine. Before he slowly crept in through the kitchen, he pulled on a pair of pajama trousers over his bare body to fight the cold. Jack didn't notice as he was munching on a bowl of porridge, his eyes spread out across the newspaper. Ianto admired him from afar and walked closer, softening the Captain's hair back.

Jack looked up just then and smiled softly, looking back up at to the younger man standing above him before speaking quietly. "Morning. Sleep soundly?"

"Like a dream," Ianto mumbled, taking a seat at the table. "And you?"

Jack waved his hand and changed the subject. "It's seven-thirty, so I figure we can be back to the Hub by eight – is that a problem?"

"No, eight. Perfect." Ianto sat up slightly straighter, slipping slightly back into work mode now. Just because Jack sat in front of him in nothing but his white undershirt and loose trousers didn't mean he could bypass the job at hand. Ianto stood up to his feet and wandered his eyes along Jack's figure.

"Suppose I should take a shower now…" The younger man mused, one of his fingers drawing circles around the table. "Care to join me?"

Porridge stuck to Jack's lip as he looked back up at Ianto, and there were flecks of oats between a few of his teeth as he smiled wider. "Oh, would I?"

Ianto watched Jack carefully before bounding up to his feet and running out of the room as the Captain chased around him. Laughs ensued while Jack caught him, planted him against the bed directly behind him, and peeled away the thin layer of clothing from the back of him, all the while giving his bum a proper – and possibly well-deserved – smack.

"You never learned the meaning of coy, did you? Not once, Jack?" Ianto said through a laugh before he stepped back on to Jack's foot and opened the door to his bathroom. The door was ajar for Jack's amusement as Ianto started up the shower, and while Jack watched, he rid himself of his own clothing.

By the time Jack was entirely bare and wandering into the shower, Ianto was already giving himself a proper rinse from head to toe, his eyes shut as the scalding hot water hit his back. Jack gave his cock a few swift, deliberate pulls as he licked his lips and prowled closer to the front side of him. Ianto was aware of his presence as he slid his fingers over his chest and opened his eyes to look back at him.

Neither man had even brushed their teeth as they unanimously leaned in for a kiss, only intensified by the rising mist and close quarters. Ianto breathed Jack in, savoring each moment, and Jack responded anxiously, his hands exploding down the curve of Ianto's back. Jack's fingers tip toed lower and lower, all the while, before he grazed his arse softly and bit at his ear. Jack was quiet as he wet his fingers and slid them slowly down Ianto's crack.

Ianto grunted instantly, kissing Jack harder and thrusting against his hips all the while. Jack smiled and turned two of his fingers in, sliding in one after another, before taking his cock in his own hand to give it a few jerks. Ianto's hands held tight to Jack's shoulders, his fingernails jabbing to skin and applying a hair of pressure, enough to drive Jack over the edge.

"Don't waste time, it's of the essence," croaked the younger man, and Jack pulled his fingers and squeezed Ianto's leg. Just then, Jack pulled Ianto under the water and smothered him into a deeper kiss, all his energy wrapped up in one deliberate act to pleasure him. Jack jerked his cock harder against Ianto and turned his head away to brush away the trickling water.

"Take me," Ianto mumbled, and Jack nodded, shoving him against the back of the shower, turning him around, and breathing softly into his ear. It wasn't long before Jack arched Ianto's hips back and took him right there. The moment locked, and everything was a blur. A beautiful blur.

* * *

_Kavin had returned to Jack's doorstep an hour after leaving the pub, stumbling for sanity and warm arms to crash into. Jack let him in, but not without an explanation that sent them into the early hours of the morning. In the end, however, nobody went to bed angry. _

_Two weeks passed with a strange rhythm. Kavin was home now, though the void between him and Jack was stretching. The inevitable was coming closer, and Kavin could see it. He saw the whole of the universe at times, and it was so much bigger than New New York or anything mankind currently knew._

_They would come to get him some day, he would be spotted in a crowd of dozen and he would have to keep running farther and farther. He knew it._

_The covers pulled back slowly, and Kavin climbed out from under them. Sleep had not been his friend as of late. He looked back at Jack – Darion – and frowned slightly, nearly pulling his hand into his, but his feet padded the floor and he heaved his tired body up._

_And there sat Jack's vortex manipulator all of six feet away. Kavin's eyed were fixed and glazed with so much confliction and temptation, a feeling that had begun to itch at him from the very night he'd returned from the pub. Jack hadn't put it on in months in part to the swelling, as well as the fact that he couldn't nor wouldn't time travel, for obvious reasons. It had surprised Kavin at first that it was lying at the corner of his dresser in plain sight. Now, it taunted him and all of his inner thoughts._

_Jump, his mind told him, jump and take it and hide it. Kavin shook his head and let out a bitter sigh. His hand lifted yet dropped again. He glanced to Jack and crossed his arms again. This, this little thing – Jack would notice, and yet…_

_Before Kavin could take it back, it was in his palm and then slipping into the pocket of a pair of trousers. He looked back at his lover again, just in case, and slipped from the bedroom. He continued to wander farther into the familiar flat, his eyes scanning over the silhouette of Jack's belongings. Stupid fools, they bought a crib, and neither of them had returned it yet, or any of it. It hardly seemed real yet though. The very thought made his own skin crawl._

_The vortex manipulator slid through his fingers; he sighed from his nostrils. He was closer now, so much closer._

* * *

The Captain's heavy, cumbersome body leaned against Ianto's limbs, both men shivering and clinging closer and closer as they pulled themselves together. Ianto wobbled on his legs, perfectly debauched and content and he rinsed shampoo through his hair. Minutes later, he wrapped a towel around his hips and passed a smile over to Jack, waiting for him to come from the bathroom.

Jack was all of three steps from the door when his stomach gave a jerk and proceeded to rise up in his throat. He lunged toward the toilet and let it rip, his eyes burning as his throat wretched and body shivered. Ianto returned to him, his fingers creeping into his hair as he peeked over his shoulder. He'd picked up on Jack's sickness over the last couple of weeks, in particular, but he hadn't said a word. He only left to bring Jack a glass of water and bring him up to his feet.

Hands grazed Ianto's shoulder as Jack glanced down at the water glass, his eyes still tearing and bloodshot.

"Drink this," Ianto directed, shoving the glass into Jack's hand. That was an order, not an offer. Jack took the glass and a large swig, his face contorting in disgust.

"Think I need to lie down." Jack grumbled noises and nonsense all the way to the bed as his body lied back on it. It was time to go to work, yes, and he held up one finger as he waited for his head to stop spinning. "Give me a minute."

Ianto sat to the edge of his bed and brought his knee up to his chest, still as stark naked as the day was young. He smiled quietly as Jack lifted his finger to brush his cheek, and the younger man looked back at him. "Why not take a day off if you're not feeling well? We can manage without you for a day."

An uneasy smile graced Jack's lips at the consideration, but he shook his head. If he was going to be brooding in Ianto's flat, said owner of flat would be near him. And a day off on account of silly morning sickness was out of the question. Jack sat up and gave Ianto a chaste kiss before standing up to his feet. "No. Get ready, we're on our… oh, no."

Another stroke of dizziness shot through Jack, sending him right into the bathroom once again, one hand clutching his mouth, the other his stomach.

* * *

_The morning sun finally rose at the start of a new day, and Kavin was on his fourth walk around the center of the city. It was relatively crowded, but he nudged past the packs of people coming and going about their daily lives. He was just beginning to develop a slight sweat even at seven in the morning, but he barely noticed. He had enough reasons to clear his mind – the name Darion, for one._

_He walked past the crowds and bustle and tourism and past a dark alley, when a cool gust of wind brushed past him, enough to nearly have him trip on a crack in the ground. His eyes shot to the alley as the wind rustled, a suspicious light forming from behind a dumpster. He looked over his shoulder and stepped closer, stopping dead in his tracks as the sirens muted and the figure came into plain sight._

_A box. A blue box in scripted with the word "police" in white letters. Kavin had never seen one of these before, and even if he had, it was only in pictures from days long ago and very much gone. He set his hand on the doorknob timidly and pushed it gently. To his surprise, it moved back, but just as a wiry man in a brown pinstripe suit sprung out and knocked him down on the ground._

_"Oh geez, I hate it when that happens," the strange man said as he helped Kavin up to his feet. "There, you're all right, up you go."_

_Kavin eyed him up and down and raised his eyebrows then glanced at his blue box. "Who are you, what are you?"_

_The man opened his mouth to say something but crinkled his brow. "Listen—long story, I'd love to chat but I really ought to run. Bit of a rush, as you'll understand. Oh, you wouldn't know where to get a danish in this century, would you? The pastry, that is."_

_"Uh…" Kavin looked back at him peculiarly and shook his head. Before he could get another word in edgeways, the man began to sprint down the alleyway. Kavin followed after him, chasing him around the corner and brushing his hand over his shoulder. He felt a surge of energy that he caught in his throat, but he blinked away the sensation and brushed his fingers over his own forehead._

_"I know you're busy, but all I want to know is—"_

_"Look, I'd really love to stay, but I've just got these things—horrific, blood and destruction and oogley things and babies on spikes. I really do… hate it when that happens. So I'd love to talk, but would you kindly—"_

_Kavin cut him off instantly. "Wait, I can help!"_

_The man opened his mouth again, as if he was to say something particularly relevant, but his lips curled around an "Ah, no." And he added, "Now go, please go, really. Thank you."_

_But Kavin was persistent. "Fine, but tell me your name. I'll go, I promise. That's all I want."_

_The man wasn't buying it, but he pointed his finger in his direction like a particularly sassy school teacher. "You _promise?_"_

_Kavin felt another punch of energy but smiled and nodded his head, growing utterly delirious. "Yes, yes, on my life, I swear to you."_

_Just desperate enough to get this boy to shoo off, the man let his guard down, shook Kavin's hand, and smiled his most shit eating grin. "There you are. Hello! I'm the Doctor. Not Doctor Smith, not Doctor Jones, just the Doctor."_

_Kavin's mouth was practically locked to the ground as he passively shook the Doctor's hand. He, he could barely speak. "What was that you came in?"_

"_My TARDIS. And you are?" The Doctor eyed him up and down, slightly suspicious, but he'd run into more than enough humans in his life who took what he said at face value. Nothing ever came of it. Besides, it was anything to get this strange man off of his back._

_He was almost too bleary eyed to respond. "I… it's Kavin."_

_"Kavin!"_

_Kavin practically jumped from his skin, but the Doctor continued before giving him a pat on the arm and rushing off. "Good name, Kavin, love to stay and talk. Have to run!"_

_He disappeared into the distance, blocks and blocks ahead of where he and Kavin originally stood. Kavin could still feel the rush inside of him, and he wondered if, for a split second, the Doctor could, too. As he glanced over his shoulder, he looked at the TARDIS. Curiosity got the best of him as he walked back toward it and looked it up and down, feeling his hand across the worn wood._

_His eyes shut as he felt a warm glow around himself, his hand still to the side of the blue box. He felt his hand around for the doorknob and noticed the door was still open ajar. The Doctor had never gotten around to locking it, and it must have stayed open after their awkward meet. Curiosity got the best of Kavin and he pushed the door in. It nearly took his breath away – every knob and button and bell and whistle. It was an older model, but oh, it was beautiful and took his breath away. He closed his eyes and took it in, the magnitude, the ambiguity. The familiarity._

_A TARDIS. The Doctor's TARDIS. Kavin knew a way to get out._

* * *

"You can't go to work; I'll call in and tell the others in a couple of hours. Lie down. I don't care if the world is ending…" Ianto directed as Jack wobbled from the bathroom, stubborn as the day long and back in a pair of trousers to fight the cold.

Jack let out a stubborn sigh but sat down at the edge of the bed, watching Ianto as he went into the next room to fetch another glass of water. Never mind the consequences, he had to tell him. He couldn't keep pretending, not for a moment.

He pulled Ianto beside him as he handed him the water, looking intently into his eyes with an intense, longing glance that would soon turn apologetic. Jack was never one for sentiments, but he took the bemused young man's hand and gave it a soft pat. Ianto grew increasingly tense and raised his eyebrows.

"Jack?"

For one of the first times in his long, highly irregular life, Jack was nearly speechless. "Ianto…"

* * *

_Kavin turned the lock behind him and took in a sharp, nervous breath as he felt for the vortex manipulator deep in his pocket. He wasn't going to steal the TARDIS – he hardly wanted a Time Lord tracking him down across time and space, but he certainly knew what it was capable of._

_He pulled the fob watch from his other pocket and stared down at it, glazed with anxiety and temptation – anxious for the future, scared as hell where he'd end up, ashamed to disappear, devastated to never see his lover again nor the 51__st__ century. All this time waiting to breathe his true identity back into him. He couldn't waste any time… no. He would absorb the time vortex, regenerate anew, resign his DNA back into a human, and get the hell out of there. It was risky, it would have to be quick, and he could easily get sick, but yes, it was now. It was now or never._

_"Bye, Darion," he whispered, the edge of his fingernail popping open the lid._


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Chapter 4/?)  
**Rating/Warnings:** G, mpreg  
**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto  
**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.  
**Words:** 3,900  
**A/N:** Again, you guys, thanks for waiting and thanks for the feedback. I couldn't reply to the last comments because of time, but I promise to reply to these. Also, a big make out session to my friend Ann for beta-ing it like whoa.

* * *

_The first time Kavin had regenerated, he did it in his own TARDIS as he fled from Gallifrey during the Time War. He couldn't have any physical remnants of his old self, and he was too much of a self-admitted coward to stay behind and die like the rest of his kind. He kissed his mother goodbye as she slept, then let himself burn to death before his inevitable recreation._

_His TARDIS took him to the year 5006 and died an hour later, just as he assumed the human role of Kavin Carson – a twenty-five year old "fact checker," of sorts, working for a high-ranking firm in midtown New New York. In time, he forged a fake identity even down to his thumb print, anything to escape the eye of the Time War._

_So many nights, he dreamt of his mother and his father and the peaceful life they all lived in Gallifrey. He excelled in mathematics very early on in life and lived a peaceful existence, until he was plucked to live out his destiny as a Time Lord. He wanted to defy the Eye of Harmony, be so brave for the first time in his life. But he turned away and ran. He had everything inside of him to be valiant and powerful, but he was reluctant._

_He met Darion a year later. Both men adapted to each other rather quickly, the closet thing to love in the 51__st__ century without actually putting any stamp on it. On Gallifrey, love and monogamy were completely different words, and whatever they were, it wasn't even synonymous to that of the new planet he was on, not even by a long shot. _

_And so it was simple. Both Darion and Kavin both swore by a polyamory lifestyle, though Darion far more than Kavin. Kavin never minded it – he enjoyed his companionship and then some, and he was a warm welcome to a strange and unknown place._

_Things just developed as they went along._

* * *

Ianto watched Jack carefully as Jack still formulated the words in his head. So much could be said in so many ways and yet the near-two hundred year old man was lost for dialogue. Ianto nearly wanted to say something, but Jack looked back at him with a softened expression, and he squeezed his forearm supportively.

How could Ianto, a man so horribly charming yet so potentially simple, possibly understand? Jack kissed him again and lied back, complaining about his back – anything to change the subject.

Ianto sat up for twenty minutes, watching Jack drift in and out of bouts of sleep. Ianto never saw him do that, even during the night when all Jack could do was clutch the younger man like nothing else mattered. So he left him alone and even covered him with the duvet as he went to clean up the kitchen and put on a kettle.

* * *

_Kavin's feet planted like a teeter-totter in a completely new and different world. In his first moment on Earth, he heaved his body toward a side alley and bowled over. Time travel… never good for the gastrointestinal processes, at least that's what Darion had told him several times before rather off-handedly. Kavin had no time to waste, however. Despite his nauseous state and disorientation, he gunned it as quickly as he could down the London streets and around a corner._

_Things felt different. His clothes clung tighter to his longer body – he was taller now, he was sure of it, but he was far too dizzy to analyze all that had transpired in the last five minutes. He had no opportunity to glance by a store window or suitable mirror as he ran past the shops and commotion of the city._

_His swift feet eventually took him into another alley blocks and blocks ahead of the last one. Empty, completely empty, potentially dangerous – and perfect. He popped open his fob watch and took a deep breath, absorbing every last aura of light before collapsing back against a brick wall and lying his tired body with a thud. There was no better word for his current demeanor except utterly spent. He couldn't stop to care if anyone saw him as he lied there. He had no intention to wake up any time soon._

_For what felt like hours, Kavin eventually felt small but firm hands clutching his arms as he was pulled back up to his feet. The female voice asked for his name but he mumbled incoherently and barely cracked his eyes open. She stood there, all the while, holding him up for support – this lovely woman with big eyes and a caring, optimistic voice._

_"You'll be all right. Can you move your legs?"_

_Kavin nodded his head, frowned, and opened his eyes to look to her. She was beautiful, but so was he, and she smiled and said, "There you are. Go on, love, let's take you some place more comfortable."_

* * *

"Cuppa tea?" Ianto offered with a smile, swatting Jack on the hip with the paper and taking a seat beside him. "Get up. I'm not going to hand-serve you."

Jack took the cup of tea with a wink of gratitude and folded his legs in from underneath the covers. "Thanks." He took a sip and rubbed his teeth over his tongue. "Listen, get ready for work, I'm not letting you off that easy. I'll join you in an hour."

"Sir…"

But Jack only wagged his finger. "Uh-uh. Don't start, Ianto Jones, behave."

Ianto shot him a dirty look and an eye roll as he moved to put a proper suit on. And it was The Pretty One, in Jack's words, which seemed to put a slight skip in the Captain's stride as he eventually pulled his body up.

* * *

_Kavin awoke several hours later on what seemed to be a small twin-size bed splattered in indigo sheets and blankets. He had no idea where he was and had little recollection of what had occurred earlier – had he simply gotten himself bollocksed, wandered into a strange, rather old-fashioned suburb, and planted himself into the arms of someone else? He rubbed his brow, a different-shaped brow, and pulled his legs, longer legs than before, from the side of the bed. As he adjusted his eyes into focus, he stared down at his hands and raised his eyebrow, then to his feet. His fingers grazed over his nose and cheeks, softer and stubbier._

_His feet instantly ran to what appeared to be a bathroom only a few feet away and flicked on a foreign light switch with very precise, inquisitive fingers. The door was shut and locked behind him before he built up the courage to look in the mirror. The image in front of him took his breath away; it hadn't been a dream or his imagination. Everything had changed. The man staring back at him didn't have his face._

_He. He had changed in more ways than he could recall were possible, despite the fact that Kavin, in and of himself, had only been a temporary arrangement to begin with._

_Perhaps he'd simply grown attached to seeing the same face day after day, including those of the people he knew and cherished, all lost and scattered in different galaxies and millennia. Including Darion's._

_Kavin suddenly balled a fist and slammed it on to the sink, feeling the tears well up in his eyes as he stared back at himself, this complete stranger in front of him. This man who was to be a phony figment of this century, whatever century he was in; a man who was supposed to forget about the past, his true self, and simply sail into a new life all over again._

_And he'd never see _him_ again. More so, he'd left him without a single goodbye. For all he knew, ten years had passed between now and then. He could even be dead._

_His heard turned to the door as he heard a female voice from behind it. It had all come back to him, even her, though her name had dissolved from his memory._

_"Y'all right in there? Is there anything you need?"_

_"No!" He called back, hoarser and lower than he had expected. He cleared his throat and repeated the word, but his voice was still the same, including a new and unexpected accent. Another thing he'd have to get used to. "I'm fine!"_

_It was silent for exactly one minute. Kavin counted each second in his head to a meticulous level. "Well, all right, just come out when you're ready for tea."_

_"Yes! Thank you, I will. Thank you."_

_Awfully trustworthy, he thought, as he opened the doorknob and stepped out. At least he didn't feel as alone._

* * *

Jack was nearly relieved to get back to the Hub an hour and a half later. His morning sickness had more or less subsided. He could get back to work despite the periodic, knowing glances from Owen as he polished what disturbingly appeared to be stirrups for the examination table. It was a slow day, so far, but Jack could concentrate on paperwork and squeezing his stress ball for hours on end.

Of course, it didn't help his frustration when Gwen and Tosh pulled the team into the boardroom for a Big and Important Meeting. Jack used every fiber within himself to sound anything but cold, at best, as Gwen insisted that Torchwood analyze the rift spikes to prevent further people from being lost in it. Owen offered a hand while Ianto remained quiet and supportive, up until Jack shifted his weight and left the board room, only to be faced by the younger Welshman a minute later.

Jack could not have predicted Ianto's siding with Gwen on this particular case, but he walked away from it and returned to his office to clench the stress ball into his palm.

He somehow assumed that moment that, by the end of this entire ordeal, he would have boxes and boxes of the little rubber play toys, and all would be heaved at members of his team periodically throughout the day – including Myfanwy, if she kept up that bloody squawking. Jack would have to put a request to Ianto to put a stop to that. And then he would tell him. No excuses, no putting it off any longer.

Tonight. It would be tonight. Post haste.

* * *

_The woman poured Kavin a cup of tea and smiled graciously as a slight drop of water popped from the edge of the cup and on to his palm. "Sorry."_

_"Not a problem," he responded quietly, pulling away the cup and grabbing a loose tea bag from the counter. "Thank you."  
_

_She smiled again and offered him a seat down at her table. He took it and crossed his long legs in front of him. It grew quiet, so he spoke in short, casual words for the conversation's sake. "And thank you, too, for taking me in when you saw me. I'm sorry if I might have struggled."_

_She shook her head. "Not at all. I mean, don't think I take in random people regularly. But I thought I saw you fall over."_

_"I don't remember what happened, I just blacked out," he said as he took a sip of his tea. It was a safe answer, and she took to it well. "In fact, I barely remember a thing. I remember you picking me up though." He smiled at that._

_"Good," she chuckled and eventually grinned. "I'd hate for you to have woken up in a complete frenzy – who am I, why am I here?" _

_Kavin's eyes widened ever so slightly, but he simply smiled and nodded his head. Another sixty seconds._

_"So what's your name?" She asked. The question of the hour._

_Kavin stammered, to say the least. "My what?"_

_"Your name?"_

_"My name?"_

_She looked at him strangely. "Yes..."_

_"_My_ name?"_

_"What people call you."_

_"My _name?"

_At that point, she was downright blinking. He was quiet still. As he opened his mouth to speak, there was simply air, and she cut in right away, shaking her head._

_"Nevermind. It's okay… I guess?" Her fingernails tapped the side of her cup and she shook her head. "Right. Do you live here?"_

_"No, I just dropped in today. I don't know how long I'll be here. Well, permanently maybe. Actually, this is my first visit here." She seemed surprised, so he added, "Believe it or not." He stared down into his steeping tea at that and shifted his tea bag._

_She smiled graciously again. She had been nothing but gracious, despite being put off a moment ago. "Do you like it so far?"_

_Kavin returned the smile and nodded his head. "Yes. Yes, very much so."_

_Forty-two seconds passed again while the woman stared back at him. He, too, caught her glance and stared back in return. He could keep counting the seconds, but he shoved the mental clock into the back of his mind and smiled nervously. As she opened her mouth to speak, she also extended her hand and shook his, if only momentarily._

_"What was that for?" He smiled, suddenly realizing how attractive she really was. The woman started laughing and pulled up her cuppa tea. She held it coyly and grinned widely, her teeth white and gleaming against her darker complexion._

_"Well, I believe I was welcoming you to London!"_

_He grinned wider and blushed slightly, sipping back the rest of his tea. It'd grown cool before he'd realized it. "Oh, thank you." He looked back at her again. "Thank you very much."_

_She simply stood to pour more tea into his cup and offer him another tea bag when need be. "So what do you do?"_

_"Me?" He pointed to himself as she nodded her head enthusiastically. "Well, I did work for a firm where I lived before—a place called," he stressed to say it only once."_New_ York. You have that, yeah?"_

_He received a peculiar glance from across the table. She nodded her head apprehensively with a crooked smile. "Just across the pond. You lived in New York?"_

_"Well," oh, bugger, wrong identity. "In a way. Sort of. No, not really. It was based in New York, I stayed in the United Kingdom." Regenerations were often times quite sloppy. It was bad enough that she caught him before he could work out all the kinks. At least he had a good sleep before the questionnaire began._

_"Oh, of course." She nodded with greater understanding. "So did you have a job transfer?"_

_He shook his head and smiled as she poured in more hot, steaming water. "Well, no, not really. I decided to leave home and try something new—whatever that is. I only just got here."  
_

"_Wait. So you moved to London without knowing what the hell you're doing? Just like that, completely off-hand, and you don't have a thing lined up?" Beat. "You're… really not from here are you?"_

_He nearly froze in his spot, but he shook his head and picked up more of his tea. The woman still continued to look back at him, half-sympathizing for him and half-worried that she let a complete free loader into her flat._

"_Uh, I'm not, I'm from all over. Why do you say that?"_

_She shrugged. It was deadly quiet. "Just don't talk like a Londoner, that's all."_

_Kavin noticeably relaxed and even chuckled to himself. "OH! No! I'm from all over."_

_"You already said that."_

_Time to get a new default answer, Kavin mentally told himself, as he let out a bit of a noise and closed his mouth again. "Because I am."_

_It was quiet for a good long time until she said something again, only hesitating slightly. "You're quite odd, you know that, right?"_

_They both shared a laugh at that, though she had an air of nervousness about her that was unmistakable. As if he could read her mind, Kavin quickly shook his head and cupped his palm over his tea cup. "No worries. I know people in town." Lie. "So I'll stay at their place." Somehow. "Don't worry. I'll be out of your hair. I really do appreciate you taking me in though, for today."_

_His answer seemed to pacify her worry slightly more then. "Not a problem. And listen, it's a big city. If you ever want to do coffee or something..."_

_He sipped down the rest of is tea and signified he was done with a little extra nod. "I'd really like that." He stood up to his feet and saved her an extra step by putting the coffee cup into the sink and the tea bag into a bin. She thanked him and offered to do it, but he insisted to clean it out and set it back on to the sink. He always had a clean streak in him. She handed over her cup and he took care of it before taking a seat again._

_"Bugger, thanks—as you can tell, I look like a bit of a pack rat."_

_Kavin looked around the flat and sucked on his lower lip. "No, this is really nice, it's warm."_

_She flashed him a brilliant grin. "Sure, I get that a lot. It's another word for 'packed to the gills' isn't it?" Kavin didn't say anything, but he chuckled softly as she continued. "I inherited all these things from my mum after she died and I haven't quite had the time or expenses to put it into storage."_

_Kavin's face fell. "Sorry to hear about your mum."_

_She shook it off. "Ahh, bloody brain tumor—longest two years of our lives. But she was ready, we all were… by the end. And so…" Her voice trailed as she dribbled her fingers against the table idly. How could a girl so young be so ready? Kavin didn't question it, and so he remained silent yet sympathetic. "So what about you, is your family spread out?"_

* * *

"Ianto! IANTO!!"

Ianto glanced up to the window at his rather pushy boss before hanging up the phone. "Bye, Gwen." As the tea boy returned back to the room with two cups of coffee (decaf, just for the sake of sanity), he eyed Jack up and down before handing him his coffee. Jack stood there in nothing but his undergarments. For as long as Ianto had known him, he had never been anything short of an exhibitionist at times. While Ianto's collar was popped open, he dignified himself with a pair of trousers.

"Bit pushy, aren't we?" Ianto handed him a coffee and followed Jack into his office. He took a seat at the edge of his desk and Jack sat back.

"I just know what I want. Ah, thanks." Jack sighed into his cup of coffee and held the warm mug around his fingertips. He glanced back and forth between Ianto and his desk and opened his mouth to speak, taking in a long breath. "I need to talk to you about Myfanwy, possibly a sedative for the late afternoon; she's been going on screeching rampages and giving me a headache. We can't very well let her out at three in the afternoon."

It was moments like these that Ianto wished Suzie were still around, the fearless leader behind the Myfanwy barbecue sauce. How was he going to find a sedative strong enough to put out a dinosaur? Besides, Myfanwy had never seemed to bother Jack before. Hell, Jack should have been thanking her for blessing him with Ianto, the master of coffee.

Ianto was still at the ready, as always. "No, we can't. I'll see what I can do." Ianto smiled to himself for a few seconds, eventually breaking into a laugh.

"What?" Jack questioned.

"Oh, just the time that Owen thought Myfanwy was about to lay an egg because Gwen was extra hyper-sensitive to her while carrying the Nostrovite, even when she was out of the Hub. I had to give him the birds and the bees discussion. When mummy dinosaur falls in love with daddy dinosaur…"

Jack smiled idly in his attempt to not give anything away, though it seemed horribly ironic. As if Ianto could actually sense something. Impossible on every level – no, it was just a coincidence. "What did Owen say to that?"

Ianto looked over his shoulder to Jack's desk. "Threatened to turn me into a medical experiment gone wrong." Ianto remembered the packet he put on Gwen's desk and his smile subsided. "What's so wrong with Gwen knowing?"

A sigh left Jack's entire body. He hardly needed this discussion in the afternoon, let alone here and now. He sipped on his coffee and didn't even look up at Ianto. Discussion was closed. Ianto took the hint and moved his hand over his own shoulder to give it a soft rub.

Sixty-three seconds.

"Ianto, what's the most unbelievable thing I could tell you—something you would never believe in a million years?"

Ianto knew what he wanted to say to that, but he shrugged his shoulders back and gave it a good thought or two. "Honestly? I don't think there's one thing you could tell me that wouldn't make sense in one way or the other." The younger man smiled a bit mischievously. "Why?"

* * *

_Kavin looked back at her before shaking his head. "No, I lost my parents," he cracked a melancholy yet strong smile. At least, that's what he assumed. Just another thing he ran from before he could find out. "Good people, too."_

_She covered her hand over his and gave it a small stroke. "Then neither of us are alone, are we?"_

_Kavin looked at her with fresh eyes then, noticing for the first time a girl just as alone as him, perhaps. He brushed his other hand over hers and nodded his head as he squeezed their hands. And then they laughed._

_As he squinted, he formed his words carefully. "What did you tell me your name was again?"_

* * *

Jack waved his hand and sipped more of his coffee. "Just that…" He trailed off again and didn't even look to Ianto. His fingers pinched his bottom lip and he stared into space. All the while, Ianto sat for a few seconds in silence and eventually crinkled his forehead.

"Jack?"

The Captain's fingers moved away from his lap, and he folded them on to his bare lap as he stared down into it. Another minute passed like this, the seconds like time bombs. "Ianto, in the 51st century, I was implanted with this thing. This thing that allowed me to bear children, barring some… extra additions from my partner."

Ianto was deadly silent as he stared back at his Captain. His arms shook and he held on to his cup of coffee with the grips of life. Jack looked back at him seriously as he straightened out his fingers from his lap.

"Ianto. You have to believe me."

* * *

_"Is that fair?" She smiled coyly._

_"Not particularly, but if you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine." Kavin paused. "Promise."_

_"You really promise?"_

_"I _promise_."_

_"You _promise?_"_

_"I promise, I promise!"_

_"Okay!" She smiled nervously, unsure of how she could trust this ambiguous man in front of her. Even so, she let her guard down as she pulled her fingers away. "Lisa. Lisa Hallett."_


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** Something Unpredictable (Chapter 5/?)

**Rating/Warnings:** PG (for some coarser language), mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto, Lisa

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has been so kind and patient, and of course, a big thank you for all the feedback! Major love to my friend Ann, again, for being my fearlessly honest beta-er.

* * *

Chapter 5

Ianto stared at a spot on the desk for two whole minutes, completely silent, unaware of what to say and how to formulate proper speech. His mouth kept bobbing open before closing again and his eyebrows were permanently tense. Any quick or relevant one-liners were out the window as Jack's words ran through his mind – neither a confirmation nor a denial, just… exactly what it was – the cold, hard truth; exactly as Jack would put it to him.

His brain was muddled and tired. It had all come at him too quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, you're what?"

Jack's nostrils flared as he gave a sigh, his fingers pinched between his eyes. "I'm, ah, there's this thing—pregnant."

Ianto looked back at him as a rush of feelings and apprehension came over him, though he bluffed it as his index finger squeezed his chin. "That's…"

Jack kept staring at him as his palms dropped back to his lap.

"How do you feel about this?"

For whatever reason, Ianto nodded his head, not giving a definitive response. "I see."

So typically Ianto, Jack nearly said out loud, watching the younger man carefully. He had to say, though, at least this time, he was remotely surprised that Ianto was so calm or believed him so quickly, but he chalked it down to shock or disbelief. Given the fact that Jack couldn't die and was from the future, pregnancy was probably the most normal thing about him. At that point, Jack stood up to his feet to pull on a shirt.

Once Jack's back was turned, Ianto stood up straighter and slid his hands over his own hips. His entire expression read as blank confusion. Truthfully, he was lost in so many conflicting thoughts that he was practically dizzy. "So, with baby?" Ianto added with more than a touch of hope, "Not pregnant with… thought?"

Despite the situation he was in, that little statement practically made Jack break into a smile, but he nodded his head and did a button around his navel. "Ah, just the one. I've got to say, you've yet to ask me how it's possible, given you don't even know if I have a uterus or anything."

"That's disgusting," Ianto practically grunted, brushing his hand over his forehead and letting out a sigh. He was a million miles away and worst off – he already knew the answer to all of his future questions in some form or another. "How did this happen…"

"I told you, 51st century implantation. Today's doctors would gawk and groan, which is why I went to Owen first, to make sure. It's just a matter of how _you_ did it."

The muscles in the middle of Ianto's back was as tense as a board. "How is this _my_ fault?"

Jack sighed out again and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't get cross all of a sudden. I'm just saying it's abnormal—"

"Yeah, you're telling me…"

"—I mean… without the supplements."

"The supplements?" Ianto came off as confused, but a flicker of light turned on his mind. The supplements. Good lord, the pills. Surely those had worn off by now, it was impossible. Years and years had passed.

"These things my partner had to take, like Viagra writ large, only they were slightly more technical and long-lasting and not painful. So he said."

"Long-lasting?" Ianto shifted slightly, eyeing Jack and up down. Jack nodded his head.

At that point, Ianto began slow, subtle breathing mechanisms. Anything to remain calm and seemingly clueless, though his insides were ripping out with aggression and temptation. He stuck to the default answer, once again. "I see."

Jack hesitated before dropping his arms again. "Maybe Owen can give you some sort of scan or blood tests tomorrow, test the levels inside of you, maybe we can find something, anything. I thought I should tell you everything before it gets out of hand. The 21st century isn't too evolved with what I'm going through, as you'll imagine, but I figure my body will be able to sustain if something bizarre were to happen."

As if it couldn't get any stranger. Ianto was still in a daze and he nodded his head, barely listening. He'd find a way to worm out of the scan, somehow. "This is a done deal, is it?"

"Yes," Jack stated firmly before tipping back on his heels. "Hold off on dropping anything to Gwen and Toshiko. For now. I want to make it out of the first trimester first."

Ianto nodded. "First trimester."

The Captain's eyes flickered between Ianto's expression and his general line of focus, which was apparently nowhere, to no shock. "Look, I know how this must look to you. But I'm telling you, in the 51st century, I wasn't the only person going through this. I know it's hard to believe it took mankind three thousand years to finally evolve around to this, but believe it."

Ianto was still as quiet as a church mouse, taking it all in. He spent more time chastising his own underestimation of 51st century pills than actually coming to terms with Jack's state. How could he be so utterly daft? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack's voice again, and he looked up slowly.

"You have to trust me."

The younger man's voice was slightly hoarse and dryer then, but he came around to nodding. "I trust you."

Jack continued to watch him. "Are you okay with this?" He approached Ianto with a soft brush to his shoulder.

The younger man didn't turn away, but he felt and looked noticeably drained. "I'll be fine. Just do what you have to do."

Jack shifted his weight and nodded his head, giving Ianto another pat on the shoulder but remaining utterly silent.

* * *

_The name just came to him. This beautiful girl, Lisa, across from him, expecting him to say it after he quite profusely promised her. He simply opened his mouth and there it was. Syllable-after-syllable, perfectly automatic._

_"I'm Ianto."_

_Ianto. From that point on, he was Ianto. It was just as easy as that._

_Lisa cracked a smile and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Ianto. Was that so hard?"_

_"Ianto Jones," he elaborated, letting the new, melodic name flow off the tip of his tongue. He shook her hand in a daze, repeating the name over and over in his head and on the outside as well, consequently. "Ianto Jones. Jones, Ianto Jones."_

_"Ianto Jones," she repeated out loud, making a mental note to herself, but Ianto continued, sounding perfectly daft._

_"Ianto, Ianto, Ianto, Ianto. Ian-to Jone-ss."_

_At that point, Lisa pulled away her hand rather slowly and transitioned her smile into that of awkward anxiety. "So I see."_

_Ianto caught on fast and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, it's just—" On that note, he thought of something fast as his hand flew to his forehead, and he let out a wince for extra effect. "I guess I hit my head harder than I thought…"_

_"Oh no!" Lisa exclaimed as anxiety transitioned into sympathy. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"_

_"I'll be fine, I think. No, no doctors," Ianto said, crinkling his forehead._

_"But if you… really, it's no trouble at all."_

_He shook his head profusely. "No, it's fine, I feel great now, just… ah, slight amnesia. It'll go away."_

_"You forgot your own name."_

_"Yes, but I remember my birthday now, it's the 19__th__ of August, '83." Beat. "Oh fuck, would you look at that."_

_Lisa looked over her shoulder and to the left and right of her, utterly confused. "Look at what?"_

_"Nothing," he sighed to himself. "Look, I realize how daft this all looks, but I promise you I'm all right. I think I ought to lie down at my mate's flat—it's across the city. Thank you for the tea."_

_Ianto proceeded to stand up very, very quickly, and Lisa followed after him stubbornly. Sure, he was an odd fool, but he was young, just as she was. Despite several things not adding up, he also had a rather charming streak in him, too. In a way, he was less of a sociopath and more of a lost and confused individual who seemed to have hit a spot of bad luck. Lisa proceeded to shake her head._

_"No, look, I'm not leaving you alone, not in your state." Ianto turned around to look at her, his eyes warming up. So much of what she said was perfectly decent and kind-hearted, but so much she didn't understand, could never._

_"That's really sweet, but I told you, I can manage."_

_He moved toward the door and pulled on the handle, but Lisa took his wrist with a quick gasp, as if she just crossed over a boundary she shouldn't – the sort of thing programs on the telly warn young women about when they let strangers into their home._

_But Ianto didn't reach for a pocket knife or clutch her with the strength of a homicidal murderer. He simply looked down to her hand and back to her worried expression, and his mind flashed back to his quick moment with the Doctor, when all he wanted was a little humoring. Look where it had gotten him._

_He carefully removed her fingers, but he didn't reach for the doorknob again. "It's okay, Lisa. It's okay."_

_It felt like the longest stretch of silence either of them had ever felt or been conscious of. But neither Ianto, nor the remnants of Kavin left inside him, even bothered to count the passing seconds. Lisa began to come to terms with these two little words as she nodded her head and finally smiled, albeit timidly._

"_Okay. Now… just tell me one thing."_

_Ianto was all ears. Frankly, he couldn't take his eyes off of her._

_Her words continued to fill the silence, though she phrased them slowly and deliberately. "Not how can I trust you—not _why_ I trust you." She took a long pause again. "As far as I can tell,_ _you're nothing but a complete nutter I found wandering out on the street and who can't even remember his own bloody name."_

_He got the hint. Hell, the look in her eyes was telling enough, but he remained quiet in case there was anything she wanted to add. Luckily, his suspicions were correct, though it wasn't the question he was expecting._

"_So why do I want to invite you for coffee?"_

_It came out of left field, but Ianto contemplated the question for a moment, wanting to give the precise, perfect answer to this young, relatively vulnerable, and damn attractive woman in front of him. He knew her anxiety far too well and empathized; he was possibly as frightened and alone as she appeared. The invisible line of attraction managed to black out any thoughts about Darion, the farthest thing in his mind._

_"Because…" He opened his mouth to say something relevant, but out popped out his next statement. "Lisa, I can't make you trust me; you've no reason to actually. I've only given off every wrong impression, haven't I?"_

_Lisa remained quiet, listening._

"_But I can tell you—in fact, I can even promise you, that I know how it looks. You're the first _new_ person I've met in London, and well, you're not bad-looking, really. Quite the opposite, if you'd like to know, and that probably makes me shove my foot in my mouth, added to the fact I dropped myself on the head as well. Incidentally, had you not gotten me, I probably still would have woken up, but I might have been…" He couldn't think of the word, and Lord knows he had just dropped an entire barrel of them completely spur of the moment._

"_Rather smelly?" She offered, shrugging._

"_Yes, exactly," he said, exasperated. "So thank you."_

_She gave a little nod. Despite the humor in the last moment or two, it remained equally as quiet as before, until they both broke the silence._

"_Lisa—"_

"_Ianto—"_

"_Sorry, you."_

"_No, you," she insisted, adding, "You were first."_

_He sighed out and accepted that fact. "Thanks. Okay. I was going to say, I don't have a job or a flat… not yet, but first thing tomorrow, I'm going to the nearest temp agency. And when I get my first paycheque, I want to take you off for coffee, just to show my gratitude."_

_Lisa crossed an arm across her chest and rubbed her elbow, her face scrunching as she thought about it. Not a moment too soon, she responded, just as Ianto was turning his head to look at the door. "Okay. Let's call it a date."_

_Ianto didn't know what to say. The word "date" had been re-coined and re-defined so many times by the 51__st__ century that it seemed archaic and foreign to his ears. She continued, even more boldly. "But why not let _me_ take _you_ out much sooner than that? Say, this week."_

_She was more strong-willed, more confident, than she'd ever shown before, stronger than Ianto had given her credit for. He nearly turned her down, but the sweeping prospect of no friends and no companionship hovered over him like a rain cloud. Before he knew it, he was nodding his head and cracking a light but open smile. "Okay, a date."_

_A date. His mouth formed around the word with so much familiarity, yet he couldn't remember the last time he'd been on one. She broke into a smile and raised her eyebrows. "Is that a yes?"_

_He nodded his head and smiled wide. "Yes—yes, it's a date."_

* * *

Ianto returned to his flat that night, leaving a sulking, contemplative Jack behind, though it was clear as day that neither man would sleep a wink. The next day wasn't any better. Ianto made a point to avoid eye contact with Owen, and he barely said a word all day to anyone as he divided the coffee up among its sole drinkers, mainly Tosh and Gwen now. He specifically remembered to give decaf to Jack although he never asked.

It was almost funny to consider what his punishment could have been before that point in time for passing out the tame stuff. Jack had always been a fan of good, strong caffeine, and over the last few days, it had been an utter sacrifice to wean his own self off of it. Jack took it as Ianto's own form of acceptance. Often times, he just had a strange way of communicating.

In true male fashion (perhaps why it was intended for men to leave the child bearing to women), nobody said a word about it for a full forty-eight hours, though it became an unwritten truth between the three men that each one knew. The girls took note of the strange behavior but didn't bring it up. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't revolved around _male pregnancy_, of all things. Anything that was going on under the surface was camouflaged by the same Torchwood buggery – Myfanwy, the Rift, and of course, Weevils.

There had been three Weevil outbreaks in the span of two days, a rather shocking percentage, and Jack had brought Gwen along to the hunts in spite of his better judgment. He just couldn't bear to be alone with Ianto, more for the younger man's sake than his own.

Eight o'clock in the evening rolled around; Jack sent each of his team members home slightly early, including Ianto, though Jack stalked around the inside of the tourist front back and forth, not-so-subtly waiting for the young man to return to his office like always.

He never did. In fact, Ianto motioned for his keys and slipped them into his pocket, but Jack wouldn't have it. He revealed his presence from behind him and held out a cup of coffee for Ianto to take, as if he was reeling him in. "Going so soon?"

Ianto nearly jumped twelve feet as he turned around. His response left more to be desired, though he didn't leave just yet. In fact, he was frozen in place. "Yes." He glanced down at the coffee and shook his head. "No, thank you."

Jack set it down on the counter of the tourist booth and leaned his elbow against it, planting himself right in Ianto's territory. He was surprisingly chipper, considering. "So Owen told me to tell you – eight weeks, give or take a day or so. I would have told you anyway."

The younger man was relatively quiet even as he began to shuffle papers. When he finally did speak, he was even more short than usual. "Owen knows I know?"

"He sort of figured. No one-liners and all, and the way you keep looking at me like my water is going to break any second."

There was a long pause again. "Hadn't considered it 'til now."

The awkwardness rubbed off on Jack. "O-kay. Well, there're two directions we can go from here. We can continue to ignore the giant elephant in the room, or we can be two mature adults and accept it."

Ianto stacked the papers in his hand, anything to keep moving. Jack kept talking. "And you can let Owen perform the blood test, maybe, so we can see what's possibly going on. That's something I'd really like."'

"Maybe tomorrow," Ianto mumbled offhandedly, jiggling his keys in his hand and brushing past Jack. "See you then."

But Jack grabbed his arm too quickly and swung him around. The younger man protested as he tried to pry Jack's fingers away from his arm, but he eventually let out a cry as Jack pushed him against the sliding door and clutched him for dear life. Ianto's breath was high in his chest and rising, and he tensely shook in his arms. Both men looked at each other for a good long minute, but the ball was in Jack's court. When he finally spoke, his jaw was tense and fingers were tighter around Ianto's arms.

"Look. I didn't want it to come to this, but let's talk about the facts, shall we? I'm the one that should be angry. The combination of supplements for this to even happen won't be invented for 3,000 years."

Ianto struggled, but Jack pushed him closer toward the door. "No. I can't hold down anything—_anything_, added to the fact that I can smell Owen's dead carcass from my office. I've got your screeching pterodactyl in full-on _nest_ mode, and if that's not weird enough, I'm about to get fat, _so_ fat."

Jack's hands grabbed for Ianto's forearms as the younger man attempted to interject. The Captain's voice rose higher, his eyes flickered with stress. "_Listen_. I know. I know you're a product of this century and can't wrap your head around a male pregnancy."

"No, Jack… I've got to tell you something—"

"I'm _talking!_" That shut Ianto up right away, though the lump grew in his throat as the guilt continued to rise. "But you know what the most frustrating part is?" Ianto was nearly terrified to shake his head, but he did and nearly held his breath. "My cock. Hard. Constantly horny, _no break._ I wake up, I take a shower, I write a letter, and I'm horny. And you're standing here playing the silent treatment. I'm _beating _my_ balls_, literally, and you're still stuck on the facts. This is _me_ complaining about not wanting to want _cock_ so badly. Get the picture?

Ianto only breathed. Speaking, after all, didn't seem like a terribly good idea now, and Jack was still filled with hot air. "Do yourself a favor and get used to it – get used to everything. Yes, I'm the 'pregnant man,' I'm a 'freak of nature,' and this isn't a game."

"I don't think you're a freak of nature."

"Then accept reality." Jack added, hissing venom. "Or get out."

His words hung in the air and deep in Ianto's chest as Jack attempted to unhinge his jaw. Leaving was hardly an option, but if it was the choice Ianto made, he had a big retcon with his name on it. No exceptions.

The silence was telling. Jack had utterly peaked. Ianto spoke again, though timidly. "Are you finished?"

Stubbornly, Jack shook his head. "Oh, baby, as long as there's this thing between us, this is _nothing_." He heaved out a sigh a few moments later, growing more serious again and turning up his eyebrows slightly. "I think that's it."

Ianto nodded his head and still continued to watch him for a few extended seconds. "If it means anything, I'm sorry. I never would have… if I had known. I'm sorry." Jack softened even more then and loosened his hold.

"Don't be. There's nothing to be sorry about. Not really." He took in a deep breath and slid one of his hands over Ianto's neck. "All I want is someone there with me… this time." There was a not-so-subtle hint of sadness in Jack's voice, a hint that Ianto read loud and clear.

"Can you do that for me?"

Ianto's heart pang, but he closed his mouth and nodded his head, his eyes scattering down.

Jack smiled solemnly to himself. As he gave Ianto a pat on the shoulder, the anxiety slowly drained from Ianto's body – for now. Jack spoke up again as the younger man began to straighten his tie. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Ianto's memory flashed to only three or four minutes before – the truth. Christ, it practically hung from his mouth. "_Oh_." Jack hung off his every word, but Ianto inevitably shook his head and dropped his hands. "No, I can't remember." He then added, "Nothing important, I guess."

Jack patted Ianto's shoulder again and moved a few steps away. "Okay, go home. I want you rested tomorrow, so get some sleep."

Ianto nearly invited Jack home with him, but his entire body hesitated before the words could come to him. He knew full well that the more he lied, the deeper he'd dig his own grave, and he was already in enough of a rut. Even a simple blood test would reveal so much – the perfect combinations, the inevitable cold, hard truth. If he were to tell Jack, he'd do it by choice, not medical accident.

He swung his keys around his finger and drifted past Jack. So much to sit on, so few options, so little time.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title: **Something Unpredictable (Chapter 6/?)

**Rating/Warnings:** PG, mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto, Lisa

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**A/N: **Ah, sorry about the wait! Thank you lj usernightanddaze for beta-ing for tonight. This is a pretty long chapter so thanks for reading it!

* * *

Chapter 6

About a week had passed when Jack knew he had to sit down and tell Tosh and Gwen. It was bad enough when three men knew about an unplanned pregnancy before two women, and Jack knew it would be a little awkward, especially in Gwen's camp. He prepared himself for any form of reaction as he pulled the well-worn, tan-colored braces over his shoulders and shrugged them in place.

Things had gone more or less back to normal with Ianto, however normal it could be, considering. Ianto had managed to bypass the blood test for days on end, whether it was by sheer chance (the end of the world) or his own effort ("Shouldn't we tell them first?").

Ever since that night in the tourist booth, he'd spoken to Jack just like he always did, but both of them failed to even speak of the inevitable for very long, besides idle conversation. In particular, Ianto's dialogue had reverted back to his first few weeks at Torchwood Three, his "can I get you anything, sir?" shtick. It was difficult to go all out in the presence of Tosh and Gwen, and Ianto was still in haste of inviting Jack back to his flat for another sleep over. Too much stood in the air.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, post-lunch, when Jack decided to bring everyone into the conference room. Ianto and Jack glanced back-and-forth like a couple of scatter brained teenagers, and as that thought dawned on both of them, their eyes flitted away. Jack evened out his breath and tucked in his chair as each member of his team shuffled in and sat down in their designated spots.

"What's up, Jack?" Tosh asked sweetly, her hand attached to her PDA, an extra appendage. "I'm not seeing any rift activity, touch wood."

Jack cracked a smile. Touch wood. A running joke with one of the ex-ex-ex-members of Torchwood, a man he inevitably took to bed. Massive overbite. Jack glanced back over to Ianto, who opened his palm and tapped his thumbs together. Owen raised his eyebrows and sighed out, but his silence was resigned. His undead self would have been a hell of a lot less patient.

The truth would always be stark raving mad to any of them. Gwen nearly opened her mouth to intervene, but Jack cut her off as the workings of words formed in his mouth, aided by a large huff of air. "No, Tosh, there's nothing, that's not why I called you in here today." Tosh set her PDA and its wand on to the table. Jack took note of this and folded his fingers. "Look, I know how it's going to sound, but I need you to listen very closely. In the 51st century…"

He hesitated again, not long enough to cause any overwrought suspicion. "I agreed to be this recipient, you could say, of this male pregnancy thing. Now, I was hardly the first, but it would be a gross simplification to just say I was closely monitored. It didn't work out, in the end."

Owen raised a silent eyebrow then, but he kept his mouth shut. Jack continued slowly. Gwen was already giving him that unconvinced, pinched-eye look of hers, the way she always looked at anyone when she assumed they were daft.

"To make a long story short, it's why I called you in today… all of you, to make the announcement."

It made little difference that Owen and Ianto knew. Gwen looked across the table to Jack and turned her head, her entire reaction that of hesitation. "What announcement?"

It was as clear as day. Jack's nostrils flared slightly. "I think I've made myself perfectly clear."

Gwen knew that much. She was physically cognizant of what Jack had just said and the situation, yet her brain, her very conscience inside of her, was unwilling to believe it. "I don't understand. You said there was no rift activity, what could possibly have come in from the 51st century?"

Jack was silent then. In fact, the whole table was, and no one could bear to look at Gwen even as her thick, inquisitive Welsh accent filled the air again. "You can't be telling us…"

Owen sat up straighter in his chair and joined the conversation. "Actually, it's true. Very true, in fact. Nine weeks along. Fit as a fiddle, I might add. Amazing. Utterly… amazing."

The look in Jack's eyes indicated some small form of annoyance, but he was resigned once Owen shrugged his shoulders back. At that point, he almost smiled. He'd have to remember to thank him, actually. Gwen was still skeptical, but if it took strapping Jack to the table and jabbing a few needles in to him for her to believe it, that's what they would do.

Jack expected this sort of reception, especially from Gwen. He couldn't be one hundred percent sure about Tosh. She sat there as quiet as Gwen, but she was the next one to break the silence.

"I believe you, Jack, as crazy as it sounds. Crazier sorts of things have happened, haven't they?"

The Captain couldn't help but smile as he nodded his head once, speaking a silent "thank you," and turned his eyes back at Gwen. She was now drawing circles against the table with her finger, trying to comprehend the very science of male pregnancy and how it could possibly intertwine with her boss. Funny that, she always expected to be the first pregnant member of Torchwood, but not for years down the line, even.

"It is what it is," Owen added, his voice quiet and low like loose gravel. "I didn't believe it at first, not even when the results were staring up at me. Believe me, there are still some unanswered questions. They'll get answered… once we…"

Owen glanced over to Ianto, who was currently running his finger over the end of his tie in deep thinking-mode. Owen finally continued then. "We have a lot to do."

"This is impossible for any number of reasons," Gwen insisted, looking past Owen's more solemn undertones.

Jack could pound a hole in the table with his fist, but he used every last amount of resistance inside of him to keep his hand on the table. He was getting quite frustrated with quaint, 21st century categories, especially from his own team. "Yes, it's impossible _here_, it's impossible _now_. But it won't always be. Believe me, there will be a lot more than transsexuals giving birth in the next three thousand years."

"I just don't understand it."

"You don't have to."

It was silent then. Gwen smiled sparingly and dejectedly nodded her head. "Just answer me this. Is it alien-related at all?"

Given Gwen's situation at her own wedding, it was a perfectly understandable question. Ianto was downright surly. He nearly considered giving her decaf tomorrow, but perhaps he'd settle on instant or magically forget to bring her a cup. Still, Gwen remained as polite as she could.

"No, it's completely…" Jack began to speak, but Ianto interjected.

"It's mine."

The younger man blurred his vision past every set of eyes and looked pointedly at Gwen. Jack was silently smiling, but he wore his stoicism like it was going out of style. Gwen read the message loud and clear and passed on her congratulations before each person drifted away from the table.

* * *

_Ianto became more than just a body of a human planted on a new world. As the weeks drifted on, his new identity seeped inside of his soul like the acknowledgement of a familiar friend. What was once irregular and disconcerting about the 21__st__ century transformed into comfortable and normal. Even the images of Darion flashing a million watt grin faded like dust as the days wore on. It wasn't a matter of disguising who he was, but living out a new life, the one he wanted to._

_Six months passed in the blink of an eye. Ianto settled into his new habitat and created an identity suitable for his own self. He was aptly Welsh, as Lisa caught him speaking it the next day on a lark, another side effect of regeneration. His parents, deceased. His home city, Cardiff. All things lined up in due time, but fast enough for Ianto to acquire credit, a slew of temporary jobs, and a relatively clean room from an ad he read in the classifieds._

_Before his first paycheque, he stuck a piece of gum to the end of a wire clothes hanger and managed to slip away enough from an ATM. He had an uncanny ability to go in and out of places entirely undetected. At first, it was a known science by way of a few tricks he'd acquired from the 51__st__ century. In time, he adapted it to the time frame he was in and used it to his own advantage. He wasn't a fan of stealing – far from it, but it was either that or to keep wandering the street for food or shelter. Partly, however, he wanted to impress _her_._

_In the case of _her_, it developed rather quickly. However blind and stupid Ianto felt at first, he could always find pleasurable, in depth conversation with Lisa, even from the very beginning. As it turned out, she was a Londoner all her life. She quickly taught him all the ins-and-outs of the city, including where to eat, where to drink, and just as importantly, what to avoid. It was only a couple of weeks before he memorized the tube system and could navigate tourists to-and-from the various landmarks._

_And then there was the subject of housing. Ianto shared a two-bedroom flat with a thirty-two year old aspiring actor named Edgar completely obsessed with Radiohead. It was mind grating, to say the least, and if it had been up to Lisa, Ianto would have moved in straight away and that would have been the end of it. To call London expensive would be an understatement._

_In his eyes, though, their first meeting had been so precarious that he never wanted her to think that he was some sort of free loader. Drinks and dinners out and cinema were always on him despite the cash crunch he was in most of the time. Many of his temporary jobs included sales, telemarketing, construction (for which he was fired after a day for tossing a hammer over his shoulder and knobbing a civilian in the head), even a stint as a personal assistant (again, fired, for accusation of blackmail)._

_It was around Christmas time when Lisa and Ianto toasted the half-year they survived each other, mainly to his own self-deprecation and not hers. It was also that night, clouded by dimmed candles and good Italian food, that Lisa pitched a couple of bottom-of-the-barrel job opportunities at her work. She knew Ianto was miserable going from temp arrangement-to-temp arrangement, and far worthy of something better. _

_Mentioning "the job," in Lisa's case, had always been a touchy subject. One particular day, she happened to tell Ianto the name of it in a strictly confidential way, but she failed to elaborate. It didn't matter. One small flicker of his memory latched on to the name, and he made his own impression for himself, never mentioning it. She, like him, had her own secrets, though none so gargantuan._

_The job opening were nothing more than basic paid internships passed off as "junior research." Ianto was weary for any number of reasons, number one being that Torchwood worked to pick apart, exploit, and exterminate aliens. It could only lead to a disaster._

_It wasn't until March that Lisa had finally managed to convince Ianto to at least try. Perhaps it was the shift in the weather that caused him to change heart. At that point, it had died down from frigid cold to mildly bearable, and the Christmas woes were over. __But his heart still felt like a ball of compactly strung rubber bands wound tightly together. He was half-plagued by nerves and half-plagued by a pang of distant guilt that he could barely define. But it was there, looming over him like a small storm._

_He walked into the recruitment agency on a Thursday with every intention to bugger up the job interview and never get a call back. On a Monday, Ianto Jones was in the clutches of Torchwood London, his thumb at the center of alien prevention. One cup of coffee at a time._

* * *

"Well, _I_ thought that was successful."

Ianto turned his eyes over to a lounging, almost sing-song Jack. His feet were turned on to each other on his desk, his hands crossed his chest. He looked up at Ianto like the cat that got the cream. Perhaps telling Tosh and Gwen had lifted a big weight off his chest. For Ianto, it made it a hell of a lot more conflicting and complicated.

"Really successful," Ianto mumbled, glancing down to his watch. As usual, he stayed later into the night, though the requisite shag or two hadn't been met.

Jack's chair squeaked as he sat up from it, and he walked behind Ianto, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and slid his arm around his chest. "Of all the times I couldn't want a cup of coffee more, and I can't have one. Isn't that ironic?" He brushed his fingers along the younger man's chest. "You couldn't make an exception?"

"That isn't that ironic, unless you're Alanis Morisette, in which case everything is very ironic," Ianto smiled faintly, touching Jack's arm with the tips of his fingers and sliding his hand around his wrist. "And sorry, no-can-do."

Jack broke into one of his grins that could stop a clock before he turned to rest against his desk. His arms crossed his chest and he looked directly across to Ianto. Ianto smiled then, too, and both men shared an intimate moment as the silence wore on. Jack spoke up with a slight lilt in his voice, but he grew more and more serious. "You've been awfully quiet lately."

"Same as always, I should think."

"Not really."

Ianto clapped his hands together silently and looked down into his lap. "Things are fine." He felt his entire body pause, and he hesitated. "It's just that I've got a lot on my mind. With you and what's happening."

Jack nodded his head slowly and sighed out every indicative mark of apprehension in his body. Things had gotten so comfortable between him and Ianto. Committed wasn't the word. In fact, whatever their relationship was, it could still be counted as poly, and neither man complained. Silly little packages and categorical words weren't needed, because from day one, Jack had always sensed a fondness inside of Ianto. Even when Lisa was uncovered from the basement and Jack could have shot Ianto square in the head, he kept him around.

There was a closeness that could not be ignored, but now. Now, Jack sensed Ianto could hardly look at him.

"You want to talk about it?"

Ianto smiled then. "Do you know what you sound like right now?"

Jack's voice fell one octave, becoming far more serious. "_Do_ you want to talk about it?"

The younger man's smile faded from his face, and he returned to the shell of a silent man. Jack's eyes practically bore through his entire soul, yet he blocked him out, somehow. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't matter," Jack's head shook. "Say a word, start a sentence, ask me anything."

"Do you remember anything about your first time?"

"My what?" Jack couldn't help but smirk devilishly.

"I said that wrong." Ianto immediately began to back peddle. "Not your first _time_-time, the first time you were…" He didn't even need to finish his statement as Jack uncrossed his arms, set his hands beside him, and slid over his desk.

"There was this agency called LifeSmart…"

"You told me that," Ianto interrupted, growing more specific. He found himself becoming edgier, and his voice turned more and more Welsh as the words formed inside his mouth. It wasn't a matter of interest; he had to know what Jack knew. He had to know so he could recall. "I want to know what you remember. What were you like, where did you live, were you with anyone, who was he… or she?"

This was the last thing Jack was expecting, but Ianto showed some interest, so he opened his mouth. At first, all that appeared was silence, but he went back to that place in his life decades upon decades ago. "I was happy. Mortal. A few years older than you, but not by much, I think." He took in another breath, straining to remember. "We… him and I, we were not monogamous, we were never officially 'together,' but no one really was. I remember we shared a flat, but we split the rent. At one point it just seemed like he should live with me."

Jack found himself starting to smile. He traced a finger over his teeth and down his lip, drifting into another world. The hairs on the back of Ianto's neck slowly crept up as he attempted to listen as close as possible.

"I trusted him to be the right person, because he just seemed so _good_. He was one of the few good people I knew. And believe me… they were hard to come by sometimes. It was so easy to con yourself into everything. He made me read through every pamphlet, leaflet. At one point, he made me go to a support meeting just to observe the 'energy.'"

Ianto smiled as a hair of a memory floated through his head. He rested his elbow against the arm of the chair and scattered his fingers over his chin, laughing to himself. "A bit thorough, then."

"I think he _invented_ the word 'thorough.'" Jack laughed softly as unconsciously he traced his fingers over his flat stomach. The memories, if anything, were just the thing to make him sentimental. He was about to go through it all over again, the ups and the downs and the annoyances and the general sense of immobility. So much of it would be him fending for his own self in the presence of a team completely unaware of what to do with him.

His fingers noticeably stopped turning as his mood shifted, and suddenly, he couldn't make eye contact with Ianto. It wasn't just that. "So much so that he effectively left without warning, which showed me how good he really was. Con man." He added to himself, somewhat. "Then again, we always were in the end. We just liked to pretend we were something better, I guess."

The younger man's expression was resigned to a frown and shifted in his chair, practically sitting on top of his hands. "I'm sorry." His tone was ambiguous, if not void of familiarity, but he wondered if, only for a moment, Jack could hear anything more behind his words.

"It's not your fault," Jack responded, feeling more sluggish now than he did only a few minutes ago. Ianto didn't know what to say to that, and so he settled for nothing for the time being. It still wasn't the time, if it ever could be. Even Ianto didn't know. The wheels kept turning in his head.

"Where do you think he went?" Ianto continued hastily, moving his hands back over his knees. Jack still seemed willing, but he took in another breath before he shrugged his shoulders back.

"That's the thing, I have no idea. But he—I'm pretty sure _he_ took my old vortex manipulator." He pointed to his wrist then. His brow pinched again as he tried to remember. "A think a week or so went by when I realised it wasn't going to be so easy to find him, and that's when I realised it went missing the day he left. I hadn't worn it in a while." He felt the need to elaborate more, but he didn't know what else to say on the matter. For all he knew, Ianto barely knew the purpose of a vortex manipulator.

"You think he's alive out there?" Once again, Ianto chose his words carefully. Jack had never even considered it. So much time had passed, well over one-hundred-and-fifty years, that it was all a small flicker in his mind.

"I don't know. I suspect not. Cheating time is a funny thing, but you can't run from death. Except me, but I'm on borrowed time as it is." He spoke so casually that it would seem as though his words' utter significance – immortality, spanning throughout space and time, an unmovable stake in history – was lost to him, at least for the moment. He tended to live each day in the present now. "If I ever ran into him along the way, I would have known it."

"You keep saying him," Ianto practically mumbled, but he looked up at Jack and crinkled his brow. "Don't you remember his name?"

Jack nearly wanted to respond with something in the vein of "what's it to you?" but he held his tongue. In light of all that was happening, Ianto had a right to ask questions, but it didn't make it any less of an uncomfortable situation for Jack. He'd spent so long trying to erase that man and those memories from every part of him that he even began to pretend that he forgot his name – to the point that it became true.

An artillery bullet lodged in Jack's chest during the Second World War. He was pronounced dead as his body was pulled away from the battle grounds. Fifteen minutes later and not a moment too soon, he gasped for air and reached out his arms in the name of The Doctor (which was eventually brought to him, but not the one he wanted), as well a mystery man named Kieran. Naturally, he wasn't as lucid at the time.

And then there were those other times, when the name Kavin burned a hole through his brain and on to papers and in little statements in his heads. Those were not moments he enjoyed.

"K-something. K-_ish_," Jack finally responded, his mouth a little lazy and tone a bit short. "I think Kieran. Or Kevin." He couldn't say his name out loud, not even as it bore in his mind.

Ianto couldn't even recall blinking as he nodded his head. So much time had passed for Jack and yet, as the memories washed over him and he looked before the man in front of him, it had only been a few short years.

Jack spoke up again as he stepped down from his desk. "I think that's enough of that for the night."

"Thank you for telling me," Ianto spoke in a quick, sharp breath, looking back at Jack with heavy, yet appreciative, eyes. Somehow, despite the pain of so few answers, he was thankful.

The older man, his Captain, glided his palm over Ianto's shoulder and kneaded in only the slightest way. "Any time. You have a right to know, but you can't—" He breathed in through his nostrils. "Don't tell anyone what I told you. This is all strictly personal."

"I won't tell anyone," Ianto nodded, reaching out to rub Jack's knuckles. "I promise."

Jack trusted him. He patted the top of his hand and gave it a soft shake. "Okay."

"Okay," the younger man said, not taking his eyes off of Jack for even a moment. Silence took a strong hold once more, but it was a comfortable silence.

"So you're really going through with this?"

"What did I say?" Jack's tone rose again, but Ianto still looked back up at him with honest, inquisitive eyes, not bothering to speak. So Jack replaced the quiet, once again, with more words of wisdom. "It seems like the logical thing to do."

Ianto licked his bottom lip and gradually turned his eyes away. "It's a big decision."

"And I've made it. I made the decision over one-hundred-and-fifty years ago."

"But is it the right time, is it the same circumstances?"

Jack couldn't answer that truthfully. It wasn't. He'd changed in a big way, and the world was a lesser place. He certainly knew the road ahead of him would be a bumpy one, and yet, he was driven by the challenge.

"No, but I believe I have what it takes." He watched for any reaction from Ianto, anything, before sliding his hand around his neck. "I _understand_ if you're scared. I understand if you want nothing to do with it. I can make it on my own. And I won't Retcon you, either, if you make that decision."

"Who said anything about forgetting; I haven't run away yet, have I?" Ianto said, interrupting. "I've already said all that I have to. I'm not all that daft."

"I know you're not."

"So I'll do whatever it takes, because I would anyway, mine or not."

Jack was pacified then, but he saw the anxiety inside the younger man sitting right beside him. It was no picnic for Jack, either. "It's ours," he said quietly and understated. "I can promise you it's ours."

"Then that's it then. You, me, baby, Torchwood. Nothing to discuss, is there?" Ianto seemed slightly more flushed, but he still regained his cool.

"No, I guess not." Jack squeezed the back of Ianto's neck and cupped his left hand around the back of his head. He leaned over and spoke into the younger man's ear, his repetitive breath slightly ticklish, but comforting. "You're a good man."

Ianto's heart shook like a rattle inside of his chest. Jack felt it, and he cupped his hand over the side of his chest. "Thank you."

"Yeah," the older man sighed slowly, gently rubbing the fabric of Ianto's shirt. "Stay in tonight. If you would."

Ianto's eyes trailed up at Jack. He nodded before closing his eyes as his lips were taken into a kiss, a kiss that transcended from something so chaste to something more. This was his reality, this life he'd made for himself.


	8. Chapter 7

**Title: **Something Unpredictable (Chapter 7/?)

**Rating/Warnings:** PG, mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

**A/N: **Oh my godddd, you guys, I'm so sorry for the wait. I have nothing to say about that. Suffice to say, I'm planning to finish this story, so I hope you guys are still interested. (Fingers crossed)

* * *

Some would lark that if you close your eyes for too long, your life may pass by in a blink. Captain Jack Harkness had lost that virtue more than a century ago.

Weeks carried on like regular days, years like months, decades after decades. It never changed, nor was he convinced that it ever would. That inevitable weight of death, the sort of thing a man carries to take them from each goal in life, was lost in his biological countdown. And within those years, one piled after the other, was a list of the lives he met and the deaths he saw, all which felt seconds apart.

As for people - hell, people didn't change. Clothes, hair, music, and trends, maybe, but not the inner psyche of humanity. Man kind was predictable, he had decided; so easily swayed, manipulated, gullible, and incapable of learning from their own mistakes. They all leapt like fools at the first sign of danger, yet they never looked up to the sky or saw the vast possibilities. They only carried on in their own little world. War, depression, recession, dictatorship, climate change were just a few of the fears people faced. Each person could cope by virtue of knowing their time on earth would be futile and the next generation could sweep up the pieces.

But Jack would be every generation. He would weather the eye of every storm and watch as man kind wiggled in and out of its worst times and proudest moments. He had lived so very long that he knew hoopla from a crisis and a trifle event from foreshadowing.

Three weeks and three days had passed since Jack told Owen. Hell, he was closing on a month. It would hardly seem plausible if not for the fact that _he_ was changing. And not just him, but his entire team, the four other people who had learned to rely on all his tendencies, whether commendable or otherwise. His actual condition, too, had not been a joy ride either. He was more and more displeased with own behavior and physical appearance by the day - sensitive, aggravated, anxious, nauseous, fatigued. It was already putting a cramp on his work life. He was still capable of fulfilling every duty, though the side comments and the seemingly unnecessary amount of nurturing put the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

His true time of solstice was usually kept to the mornings while he was completely alone. That odd little world stowed below the Roald Dahl Plass had been his entire world and purpose for as long as he could remember. Now it felt as though his limbs were getting stretched away from him, as if he was being reshaped like a glob of clay without any say in the matter.

Ianto came to work earlier than usual that day. Drops of rain dripped down his coat as he hung it inside the tourist office, and Jack watched from a usual spot in his office by way of the CCTV, one hand absentmindedly strayed in his lap. The younger Welshman could often tell when he was being watched, but now he seemed so hollow-minded and distracted that Jack barely knew how to carry a conversation with him.

The younger man meandered, licking stamps on to envelopes and plucking away at the tourist booth computer, as if somebody was honestly going to come in at six in the morning on a rainy day. Once he finally wandered into the main Hub, he picked up a trash bag and cleaned up traces of filth from all around him, not once glancing up at Jack's office.

Jack could see it in his eyes, the underlying layer of repression, as if he had something mounting in his own mind that could not reach the surface. Jack had his suspicions, but sometimes—damn, sometimes Ianto was too complicated even for him. At times, when Ianto would think Jack wasn't looking, or in dark corners in the streets of Cardiff on another Weevil expedition, Jack would catch a single glance of Ianto, only to be met with more astonishing confusion than he had before. Ianto had a knack for bewildering him before all of this, but now it was as if he was retreating inside of himself.

A coffee cup shattered to the ground and Jack was brought back to the present. There was only one explanation, and without a moment's notice, he spun his chair around, bounded up to his feet, and sprinted down to the main level. Ianto was sucking the blood from a cut on his finger and gathering the scattered pieces of porcelain when Jack set his hand on the small of his back.

"Everything all right down here?"

Ianto stood up straighter, tucking at his waist coat just as Jack's fingers strayed away. "Everything's fine. Absolutely brilliant." He picked up the shattered cup absentmindedly, shuffling about in the small space between him and Jack.

Jack nodded and crossed his arms to his chest, causing his entire posture to lean back like a bow. As Ianto glanced over, he pressed his lightly cut thumb against the inside of his palm and looked the Captain up-and-down. Whether Jack was entirely cognizant of his own body image (that, alone, was debatable), his belt had expanded at least an inch or two, though it was not very obvious yet. Thankfully, the last thing anyone would expect is a pregnant man. Even in Cardiff.

"So you're here awfully early." Jack leaned forward again with a sigh before walking behind the coffee maker. Over the last few weeks, he had already stared longingly in its direction only to feel a sharp dose of reality, usually in the form of nausea.

Ianto took another garbage bag out to double line the broken cup before proceeding to fill another one with a steaming glass of decaf, as per usual.

With a resigned puff of acceptance, Jack took the cup and tipped back the liquid. "Thank you." He frowned as the younger man stayed silent whilst running a rag along the coffee station.

"So as I was saying, you're here awfully early." Jack tested his own boundaries, and rather listlessly, his fingers curled over his abdomen and the small but round indentation. "You don't have to do that, you know."

Ianto eased into a slow halt, his hand holding on to the sopping wet rag, as if moving simply left him in standby mode with no ability to speak nor respond. But the truth was as evident as the very clean state of the coffee station. Jack turned his body profile to Ianto, as if he was ready to leave if Ianto kept up the silent treatment.

The rag was set into the sink very slowly, and like clockwork, Ianto looked back at Jack. "I'll… follow you to the sofa. In a minute or so. That is, if you're not busy."

Jack gave him a quizzical look. No questions asked, just a single look. Ianto was waiting for an answer, so he simply shook his head and gave some half-arsed, dazed, "Yeah, sure. I'm not busy."

Jack's stance, however unexpected it appeared, was hardly that of darting to the sofa. However hungry he was to tell Ianto everything and, in exchange, listen intently, he was completely unsure if Ianto was going to proposition him, shag him, or both. Frankly, neither sounded too shabby at that particularly moment.

* * *

_"Emergency command system, please state your emergency," a seemingly robotic, female dispatcher spoke._

_Ianto's hands trembled and his free hand pressed against his forehead in a pit of sweat. He was locked in a cross-legged, huddled position against the walls of the flat he shared with the woman he loved. Across from him sat Lisa, or all that was left of her in fragments across the floor. All he could see was steel and the harsh realization of mutilated pain. She was alive, so very alive, the woman who had saved him, yet her eyes were flickering with panic. _

_"Emergency command system, please state your emergency."_

_He finally spoke, his voice choked yet high pitched and bleeding with panic. "It's my girlfriend, Lisa, Lisa Hallett. We were at Canary Wharf."_

_"Is she unconscious, sir?"_

_"No, but she's injured and she's in pain. Those, those cyber people got her, but I saved her. Please do something, please help us."_

_The dispatcher remained so calm that Ianto could barely breathe. "What is she, sir?"_

_"I'm sorry, _where_ is she?"_

_"What is she?"_

_He. He could barely believe his own ears and he hesitated before speaking again. He didn't want to become a ballistic animal, but every part of him was shaking. "I, I'm sorry, I don't understand."_

"_Can you please tell me the state you found her in, sir? What she is?_

_The voice on the other end was so calm that Ianto could have strangled the phone. He tried, he really did try, but he just couldn't hold back on the frustration. Not now, not like this. "What sort of bloody question is that? This is an emergency and you're just asking these questions, she needs your help. Please help us!"_

_"Sir, I need you to calm down for me and for Lisa. Can you do that for me?"_

_He felt himself nodding; though his heart was palpitating so quickly that he was on the verge of fainting. He was still so unsure and his world was spinning in circles all around him. "I—I don't know if I can."_

"_What is your name, sir?"_

"_Ianto. Ianto Jones."_

"_Ianto, my name is Emma. It's going to be all right."_

_Relief. That's all he could feel and the tone of his voice rose as both his hands took a hold of the mobile, one of his wrists crossing over his chin. "Please, are you going to help us?"_

"_Yes, Ianto, I just need to know a few things first. We will have people on the way if you calm down."_

_He began to nod his head again until a thought came over him, and this time, he did not hesitate for a second. "Are you actually giving me an ultimatum?"_

_"Ianto, it's all right—"_

_Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and practically let out a sob. His fist banged the floor as he brought the phone from his ear and it in front of him, only inches from his lips. "How can it be all right? I _can't_ calm down. Please just get someone!"_

_The dispatcher momentarily then spoke extra slowly. "Ianto, I will have ambulance on its way in no time. But I need you to take a deep breath. And then I need you to look at Lisa. And then I need you to tell me what she is."_

_Ianto whimpered, pulled the phone away from his mouth, and looked back to Lisa, his Lisa, longingly. And for that moment in time, he never stopped staring, his eyes fixed on the woman he loved, those eyes he could still see and touch, just like old times. Yet there she sat, virtually lifeless and so marred that she was brutally unrecognizable. Blood was stained to flesh underneath the coarse, metallic moldings bound to her body. It was a miracle she was still alive, that she could even remember who he was._

_He responded to Emma with a frantic stillness, just barely hanging to the edge of his sanity. His voice was hoarser than he had realized, he couldn't think._

_"She's one of them, those cyber things, but only half-way. They, they changed her, but you may be able to reverse it. There's still hope, she's holding on, and you—you've got to come get her, please, you've got to help us."_

_There was an eerily silent pause over the next few seconds. Like darts whisking through the air, Ianto's brain chased more and more quickly._

_"Please, are you there?"_

_"I apologize. The dispatcher line has received an unobtainable amount of related calls within the last several hours. According to the board of greater London's emergency command system, all calls and-or hospital-inquiries in relation to cyber conversions in which the victim has been partially converted are to be forwarded to the Torchwood institute immediately."_

_Torchwood. Ianto's passion rose to his highest level, and as the tears streamed down his face, he beat his first to the air and empathically cried into his phone. "Torchwood—Emma, we work for Torchwood! Torchwood _is_ Canary Wharf. Of all the people in London to know about what just happened, it's supposed to be _us_. We're supposed to know."_

"_Ianto, I apologize, I am just following orders. There is nothing we can do. Will you hold?"_

"_No, please, I swear, I've lost my friends, my job, I might lose my girlfriend if you don't—so please! Send anyone, you just don't understand! I don't care what your board said, we've been completely crippled. Please tell your supervisor, Torchwood is gone, it's bloody gone! Please!"_

_"I'm sorry, sir, I'm so sorry. I am going to have to forward this call now."_

* * *

Ianto shuffled a bit, elbows on top of his knees and fingers squeezing a loose fist. It felt good to talk. Even if the past was dead and buried, it was every bit a part of him as present circumstances, if not more so. Jack listened intently whilst fragments of Ianto's anxiety chipped away all the while.

"And so at that point, I was desperate to get home to Cardiff. As you well know, I made _every_ move to get in here, for Lisa. We always promised each other that if one of us was hurt or—or worse, we'd get on, we'd be strong for each other, but it was just all so quick. We needed each other. In a way, I wanted to save her, like the way she saved me in the beginning."

The regret was as clear as a bell in Ianto's voice, and rather than hashing up the past and growing bitter, Jack took on a fond smile and nodded his head, however lost his thoughts were in Ianto. He couldn't help but watch the simple things. The anxious cracking of his knuckles, the spare picking of his fingernails, the adjustment of his tie and waist coat, every last eyebrow arch.

"How?" Jack finally responded, albeit quietly and still solemn with the morning air. He'd had months to get over Ianto's deception and double crossing. The only pain he drew from Lisa was watching Ianto, but even then, he'd watched him grow exponentially in confidence.

A small yet lost smirk formed on to Ianto's lips, and Jack leaned in to rub his knee. Ianto glanced back and brushed his hand over his.

"We had just met and she picked me up off the street. It's all so blurry, I can't even remember what I was thinking." He blinked away the memories like a blur caught in his eye. "She took me in, even when I looked like a complete nutter. She saw something in me and from that point on, it was pretty quick. Us, I mean. I got the Torchwood gig six months later."

"Sounds about right," Jack said to himself, sliding his hand away as he began to recollect the first time he researched Ianto Jones, that strange man he met on a weevil chase. Ianto stopped to pause before cracking a familiar, closed-lip smile, secretly rolling his eyes to himself. He should have known.

"Ah. None of this is new to you, is it?"

Jack grew momentarily quiet, glancing back to his young friend, lover, confidant, "baby daddy." He hadn't coined the word, at least not yet. Nonetheless, despite having perhaps said the wrong thing, Jack's knowledge was something Ianto had accepted. The Captain's experience and war wounds were often times what held Torchwood together; their fearless, if not overly confident, leader.

"Look," Jack began, shifting his weight slightly. "Don't overestimate what I know. They were nothing more than figures on a sheet of paper. It's what's in here." He tapped his own heart and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing to his chest.

The younger man felt almost baffled, though he resigned to humility as he rubbed his hands together. Jack was expecting him to say something – possibly something brilliant, but Ianto's cold hands unfolded and he stared into his palm for a good, long time, tracing lines over his veins.

"It used to be that I couldn't wake up and not see her face or hear her name or simply be reminded of something. She was that place in my life that was just right. Until the day she died." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "And that day was Canary Wharf."

Jack nodded along until Ianto came to a close, and his eyes grew wider. He hadn't expected those words from Ianto in a million years, not even after so long. His mouth was a few inches ajar and he was fighting say something relevant, but he could barely form the appropriate words.

Clearing his throat, he gained composure and tapped his fist against his lips. "I'm, uh, glad you can see it that way, Ianto. But part of me could already tell. You've become a greater person."

Ianto had no idea what that meant, but he had to admit, that wasn't a bad thing to hear from anyone, and so a hint of a smile traced over his lips. He couldn't help it, really. He hadn't intentionally grown, he had just evolved, and he had Torchwood – and Jack – to thank for that. It had occurred to him ages ago that he couldn't save Lisa, at least not completely. If all he had was this… well, he wasn't doing too horrifically.

"What about you, then?" Ianto said, as if shrugging away at least one part of the baggage of his past.

"Hmm?"

"You, everything." At that point, Ianto wished he had a drink. He weakly gestured. "The baby."

"Oh," Jack mumbled, noticing just then that his fingers were traced over his middle. "We're fine. I'm wired up to the gills practically every morning, as you've noticed." Both men hummed softly to themselves. "Owen's being really neurotic. He's keeping track of anything and everything."

"I think he's just concerned. You can't blame him."

"No," the Captain's head shook. "He's doing the best he can. It's not the most normal situation. He claims that my body appears to be working in overdrive to overcompensate for the 'intrusion.' They had drugs for that in the 51st century. Here… well, I suppose it's all on me."

"Is it going to be all right?" Genuinely concerned, Ianto slid his hand over Jack's knee. Jack slid his fingers over his knuckles and cracked a small, reassuring, if not cocky, smile.

"Of course. I always come out alive, don't I?"

"I wasn't necessarily referring to you."

Jack's raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, quietly putting his ego back in check. "Oh." His hand returned back to his chest before it protectively brushed along the small intrusion in his belly, and he stared down at a spot on his lap before glancing back up at Ianto, acting seemingly nonchalant.

"I. Didn't know you were that concerned. You've seemed a little off since I told you."

"Well, you have to admit. It's one thing to find out you're a father, another to—" Ianto buttoned up his lip as his jugular rose and fell. "Well… I just want what's best."

Jack's head bobbed up and down slowly as he leaned forward and scattered his fingers in between Ianto's, anything for a deeper connection. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." He took in a deep breath and exhaled. "You know, I'm just as scared. In all my years, I've never actually been a father. And I've been _a lot_ of things. I've worked in the _circus_."

Both men couldn't help but crack a smile, their hearts warming a bit more than before.

"I wouldn't worry so much," Ianto said with a wistful sigh. "Surely all that experience ought to rub off on it, right? It's not like you won't have a million stories to tell."

"I know, but even this life. Torchwood." Jack hardly needed to say anything more than that, but he elaborated. "Look at Gwen and Rhys. You know some day Rhys is going to convince her, and the day will come when she pops the news." He cracked a smile and shook his head wistfully.

"Jesus, can you imagine? Gwen, someone's mother. She batters us around enough." Ianto nearly stopped himself. He could hardly believe he was having this conversation.

"But she'd be good for it. She's got a lot of heart. You know?" Jack noted and raised an eyebrow before nodding to Ianto's approval. Moments later, as if deflated with a fine toothed needle, he added, "And that's precisely what will make it so hard."

"Why's that?" Ianto silently murmured. His brow wrinkled as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand, and he watched Jack seriously. It was a warm moment, yet Ianto was evidently ready for Jack to elaborate.

Jack let out a sigh and leaned back again. "Like I said, kids, Torchwood, not a match. Gwen should be able to live a normal life."

Ianto turned a suspicious glance on to Jack. "Sure. Course. So should you, if you apply the same logic."

Jack's expression didn't change, though a fingernail scratched his trousers slowly. The younger man sat up in realization. "You wouldn't."

"I don't know, would I?" The Captain glanced back, trying to remain as proud as he could in an utterly sheepish moment.

The moment turned quiet, morbidly quiet as Jack and Ianto sat there, attempting to read each other like complicated, 18th century literature. Ianto could not begin to understand Jack's logic. Frankly, it was enough to frighten him. If the man in front of him could be so quick to retcon Gwen, a woman he clearly had a love and fondness toward, could he do the same to him? Would he? These thoughts riled up in Ianto's head, and as he began to dwell on it, he developed a bit of a snarl underneath his gravely, low voice.

"I don't think you'd be able to. I think you're being daft." Ianto nodded only once with as much conviction as he could muster. "I think you'd treat her with the same respect as you'd treat yourself."

"It's different with me. This is my team."

Ianto's anxiety rose only slightly, yet he tried to remain passive. "Yes, isn't that so easy to say."

Jack placed a finger softly over Ianto's mouth to hush him up. For five cold, searing moments, they shared direct eye contact, transmitting an equal amount of feedback through one look than a thousand words. And somehow, the younger man was pacified as Jack ran his hand down his shoulder and even managed to come back down to earth. "Please. Let's not get hung up on hypothetical 'what ifs." Things like that are out of our control, and we've both got enough on our plates in the future."

Still silent, Ianto only blinked and nodded his head. Hell, talk about the understatement of the year. He wore all of it on his back like a cross of guilt, and whatever Jack could see, he tried to kiss away. Ianto put on a face, just to make him happy.

"You're going to be great, Ianto."

"So are you." And Ianto meant it.

Jack wrung his hands and chortled. "Yeah, but you're going to be something better than great."

Whatever that means, Ianto practically remarked, giving Jack an extra long, awkward glance before attempting to laugh it away. But Jack only insisted.

"I'm serious."

"And what makes you so sure?"

Before Jack could take his time to answer, the Torchwood doors swung upon, swooping in Tosh at her appropriate arrival time. She was chatting away on her mobile at a surprising rate, God only knows why, and munching on a piece of biscotti. Jack glanced over his shoulder and back to Ianto, and before Ianto could get a word in edgewise, the Captain cut him off with a kiss to his lips and murmured quietly.

"Because somehow, in this crazy, weird way, you remind me of him." Jack let those words sit in the air for at least half a minute before he patted Ianto on the back and stood up to his feet. "And I mean that in a good way."

Ianto could still feel Jack's hands around his arms, his voice buzzing against his lips. Those few words, however ambiguous and confusing they should have been. "Jack."

But the therapy session had ended. Jack needn't tell him more than once.

"We'll talk later. Brand new day, Ianto, time to get to work. I need those letters stamped and posted by ten-thirty."


	9. Chapter 8

**Title: **Something Unpredictable (Chapter 8/?)

**Rating/Warnings:** PG, mpreg

**Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

**Description:** Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.

* * *

Jack was never known for being a delicate listener. It was just a fact that "stubborn" was his middle name, and he had a reputation that preceded him as quickly as he entered a room.

So because of that very reason, work involvement to illness ratio made little difference for the man himself. Suffice to say, if a 21st century man's pride wasn't bad enough, a time traveling rogue from the 51st made reasoning close to impossible.

Even Ianto couldn't get a word in edgewise, and Ianto had _a lot_ to speak about, after all. Jack was simply a man of his word, and if he said it once, he said it a thousand times. So long as he could yield a gun and run without tripping over his great coat, god damn it, that's what he was going to.

"Besides," he brought up at another meeting, his elbows resting emphatically on the table, "What am I supposed to do here? I'm much better in my element, no one can stop me when I gun the S.U.V. over seventy, and I've got _at least_ two months on me before I figure I'll cut back. Two months is a long enough time in my book to get my hands dirty."

As of late, Jack had felt as though he was in put in a corner in the interrogation room, the low, blinking bulbs hovering over him like the moon itself – except now, he was the one getting the pointed finger. And damn that Gwen Cooper. He had to hand it to her; she worked that pointed finger for all it was worth. He had trained her well. Too well.

"Jack, no one doubts you're abilities," she piped up, sitting directly across from him. "But do you realize the amount of things that could go wrong if you—"

"…If I don't stay with my team and be there under a crisis."

Gwen audibly sighed and nearly threw her hands up. "That isn't what I meant, Jack, and you know that."

"Yes. Yes," Jack admitted. "I knew what you were going to say, but I've got everything under control."

"You know that? You know that for a fact?" Gwen crossed her hands and raised an eyebrow. She was giving Jack the upper hand, astonishingly enough, though she knew she had room to step right back in, for decency's sake.

"It's been what I've been trying to tell all of you for weeks now!"

Gwen looked around the table to her fellow team mates who all seemed to mirror the same unconvinced expression.

"Jack, all we want is what's best for you. It may work out for now, but later, very soon in the future—"

Owen spoke up, his voice gravely and tired, frankly.

"Christ's sakes, Gwen, don't encourage this any longer," Owen growled, tracing his fingers over the bandaged palm and shaking his head to himself. He was dead and he had more morality.

"I'm not encouraging him! I'm looking out for what all of you want as well, but…" And she worded herself a bit more delicately. "These things take time."

"What _we_ all want is to reason with him, not go around the table and hear the same old rhetoric. Besides, last I checked I'm the only doctor in this room. And as a doctor…"

Jack let out a sigh and glanced to Ianto with an expression only synonymous to "get me out of here." However, that alone was impossible, because Ianto would only side with the others. Gwen and Owen blurred into the background as Jack watched Ianto go around the table with a tray of refreshments and appetizers. Despite his field contribution to Torchwood, he fulfilled a million and one extra duties, especially now that Jack was seemingly needier than ever before.

Jack, still quiet despite the bantering going on all around him, lifted the decaf cup of coffee to his lips. He couldn't help but blanch and lower the cup back to the table. It just wasn't the same without the few calming shots of caffeine to get him through a few hours. But at least Ianto had brought reinforcements. He leaned forward and pulled the plate of pastries closer to him, taking a cheese danish from the very top. As he relaxed back in his chair, he let the flecks of pastry fly from his mouth and on to his lap as he practically inhaled the sweet delectable, manners be damned.

As if he'd just committed the strangest act under eight different planetary codes of ethics, his team all turned their heads to watch him consume a rather large pastry in less than one minute, flat. It had been all of two, three days since Jack had felt well enough to really eat a piece of food that confidently. In the case of floury, fattening pastries, he couldn't get his mitts on them fast enough.

"Look, I appreciate all the concern." He waved his free hand, his words slurred from mashing on the treat. He just ignored the looks and licked his fingers. "But as I've said thousands of times now, if it gets bad, I'll tell you, and then we'll go from there. In the meantime, I'm beginning to feel like my old self again. You said so yourself, Owen, I'm over the hump."

Owen stepped right back into a conversation, his right and rigid palm tapping the table. "Yes, you may well be—but hell if I know, you know I'm not an obstetrician, I'm up to my eyeballs in reading in case you haven't noticed. And even if I did have any semblance of an idea, we're not dealing with a normal pregnancy now, would you say? You know the risk is higher."

How could Jack not? He'd only heard it practically every other day for the last four or five weeks in varying degrees of bodily stages and shifts. Besides, his first pregnancy hadn't exactly been a success for the record books either, and it was that reminder that hurt the most. He flecked the crumbs away from his lips before folding his hands and staring back into them.

Owen just rattled on before Jack took in a deep breath to mute him.

"I know all that. And I'm reminded every damn day of my life now what I've got to lose." He huffed at that and didn't even have to say what he'd lost before. It was simply evident, and he never let his vulnerability show, even if it seeped out subconsciously, even more as of late. This whole pregnancy thing had been more of a test in his pride than he would have liked to admit.

He folded his hands around the almost empty mug. If he had been looking off at Ianto, a present figure beside him, he might have seen a look of longing or regret or something more. He might have asked why or leaned over to pull him aside. Or maybe not; it was just a possibility. He watched the liquid at the bottom of his cup slosh slightly instead.

The young doctor's heart pang with guilt, anguish, annoyance—hell, he didn't know, but he did know that the painstaking insistence on behalf of the entire team was the right thing. With Harkness at the core of it, it made it damn near possible, as the whole crux of the situation laid on Jack's machismo. How could it not. Torchwood had been his world—hell, practically his pet project in life for God knows how long, and _everyone_ in their right mind knew that.

"I've said it before, but statistically, if I stand corrected, your body is just going to…"

"Let me guess." Jack sighed and spoke quietly. "It'll reject the fetus even more, because the intrusion will become greater, so the stakes are higher by the day. I know that."

"And you're going to be feeling more miserable, which could effect your performance on the field, and God knows, Harkness, is something were to happen, I…" A puff of air flew out of Owen's mouth and he had a stillness that he couldn't even articulate. He just wanted this to work. So long as Jack was going to insist on it, this _had_ to work.

"You'd what?" Jack looked to Ianto, who had been remarkably quiet for a meeting concerning Jack's health, and back to Owen, who was back to tracing his fingers over his bandage. "Owen, for god's sakes."

Owen spoke immediately, as if he was popping a balloon inside of him and exhaling the air. "I'd just be very disappointed in you. A man who always seems to have our best interests at heart, not possibly stopping to think how he might be effect the well being of something he's responsible for."

Jack hated being put in a corner, and Owen, Owen was very much so blocking him from having an opinion. The Captain stared back at him with the most incredulous expression he could muster – as if he was playing a game of poker and didn't care to reveal all he was thinking. But inside, his blood was broiling and his anxiety was rising. And damn it, he had been trying to work on that, too.

"I," he worded himself very deliberately, looking straight at Owen. "I care very strongly for the well being of 'something I'm responsible for' very much so. And I care for the people I work with, too, so as long as I can contribute something."

There was a still silence in the room and Jack's voice raised only a few decibels to get his point across. "Anything else?"

The rest of the team looked around to each other, shaking their hands one-by-one. Jack looked to Tosh and raised his eyebrows.

"Any significant rift spikes I should be aware of?"

She glanced down to her PDA and back to Jack. It was clear that even if there were, she would pass on the memo to Ianto or Gwen, and they'd all hop out of the Hub for "coffees." Jack's keen sense of intuition had already begun to sense this, however subtle it was. Tosh shook her head and cracked a smile.

"We're good for now, Jack."

That was all that needed to be said. "Good. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Jack pushed himself from his chair and stood up to his feet, picking up his cup to swig down the rest. Luckily, Ianto caught the cup in mid air as he "handed" it to him, and with that, Jack stalked off in another direction.

Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper, and Ianto Jones all looked at each other with a familiar, pained expression, and as if the fault was suddenly on Ianto, each person inevitably looked back to him. Hell, even Toshiko—_Toshiko_, for Christ's sakes—crossed her arms expectantly.

"What the hell are you all looking at me for?" Now Ianto felt interrogated. He clasped the cup on the table and looked to Gwen as she spoke up.

"Couldn't you speak to him? He listens especially to you, and since the baby is also yours…"

"You know how Jack is. He doesn't like to be pressured."

"Not our problem," Owen said truthfully. "We all have our duties. Tosh is the computer genius. Gwen is second-in-command. Your job is… well, shagging Jack, which put us in this position in the first place." And that was another bone of contention between Ianto and Owen. "Now my job, as medic, is to see that Jack's artificial womb doesn't explode—"

Gwen rubbed a line of stress in her forehead, "Owen…"

But he continued. "So seeing as how we've established your job is to apparently knock the boss up, perhaps communicating would not put a complete damper on your relationship."

Ianto spoke up then. "Look, I know you may have a pre-conceived notion on what you think it is between us, but it hasn't all been picking out baby names and putting up wallpaper. Jack and I are in bonding mode enough as it is right now, let alone 'talking'."

At that point, Ianto had a sudden, swooping feeling that he worded that in the wrong way. So much so that Owen's eyes rolled into the back of his head so quickly, he could have suffered whiplash. Tosh just covered his mouth with several of his fingers to hide a smirk.

"That isn't that I meant. I meant that me and him, we're trying to—"

Both women began to snicker, but Owen simply sighed and sat up his chair. "Well, whatever it is, Ianto, it's what got us in this mess to begin with. We're all working over time to convince Jack and all you're doing is sitting around and making the coffee."

"Excuse me, that's _all_ I'm doing?"

And then it was Gwen's turn. "Ianto, Owen's a little right. I think what he means to say is… you could do a world of good if you just spoke to him."

Ianto let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "I can't speak to him, there's no reasoning with him. He's set in his ways. You of all people should know that. Even Tosh has tried to reason with him."

Owen and Gwen seemed surprised, and Toshiko only let off a sigh and began to pull her chair out, picking up her idle PDA that was lying on the table. "I've been doing all that I can. I have a few things under the works, side projects like improved mobile GPS and webcam for Jack when he's ready, to help him wean off the missions. But it's all in Jack's camp. Sorry."

"And," Ianto started again. "Even if we locked him in the Hub, he'd still find a way to get out. And we can't have him running off again like last time."

"No, we can't," Gwen mumbled, Owen and Toshiko throwing in their agreeing nods.

At least a minute passed before anyone said a word, the four patient comrades staring back at their respective spots on the table. Little could be said strictly because so much had already been said. Ianto began to slide out his chair and move to his feet, but not without Gwen opening her mouth. This time, words actually came out, and Ianto stopped himself from leaving the room.

"It's important that all of us stick together in this, especially you. It's a big change, isn't it?"

God knows when Gwen had become a therapist, but Ianto couldn't argue. It was intolerably painstaking for any number of reasons, some less obvious than others. He responded with a nod and a quirk of the brow. Gwen looked back to Owen and glanced in the general direction of Jack's office.

"It's a big change for all of us," Ianto offered, smiling because he didn't know how else to prove that all of this was okay and perfectly rational.

"I know it is," Gwen spoke, still and calm as she spoke into her folded palms. It was scarily inevitable for her, even, that when Jack would finally become immobile, it would be her place to step up to the place. There was just no other choice in the matter. Owen was in no position.

She took in a deep breath and twirled her wedding ring slowly. She glanced to Tosh who nodded her head and looked back to Ianto. "But if there's anything you ever want to tell us…"

Ianto shook his head but slid her eyes over to Owen who didn't move his expression. He could see that Owen was disappointed for a million and one reasons, but he considered him family all the same. And family stuck together. Hell, family told each other everything, right?

Except there was nothing to say. Nothing. Not really.

"No, we're all on the same wavelength, I should think." And Ianto passed on another one of those trademark smirks, which everyone always seemed to buy into because he carried so little to the vest to begin with. He laughed then, causing the three people around him to look back up at him.

"Seeing him wolf down the whole of a cheese danish in one fell swoop was quite an accomplishment though."

Gwen's lips pursed into a smile and Toshiko fully chuckled out loud. Owen simply rolled his eyes despite being perfectly amused. Each member of the team was thinking the exact same thing, and each one sporadically burst into laughter, the sort that carried so much honesty that the calamity of the past was hardly any match for the present.


End file.
